Forever With You
by CurseOfTheEnder
Summary: "This is final; Love has failed. This is walking away from us to save ourselves. This is goodbye..." For longer than they realize, Mitch and Jerome have known each other and longed for their happily ever after. But the true question is: Will they ever have it? (Merome, trigger warning. (Sort of.)) (This book does not take place in Minecraft. It's IRL. Sorry... XP.)
1. Prologue - Present:

_"… And if the words… Cannot form in time…?"_

_"If that is your fate… Then understand… You can't change it."_

**Prologue – Present:**

Jerome was driving us back to the house, though because of road construction, we were taking a detour. I took a deep breath. I've been in love with Jerome since we met. I love him so much it hurts. But he's straight. Straight and he has a girlfriend that he's happy with. He proposed to Alanna not too long ago. It scares me. _What if I lose him? I don't want him to slip through my fingers like the grain of sand I didn't try saving_.

But why would he even like me the way I like him? I hate myself so much; I have so many problems… I have depression, I've had it since high school and no one even realizes it. I cut too deep sometimes and I'm perfectly aware of how much harm I cause myself, but… but that's what makes me feel most alive in this _dull_ world of hatred. It reminds me I'm real. That I'm not dead. No one would understand... Jerome hasn't found out yet. I can't even begin to imagine how upset he'd get if he found out.

I shudder unintentionally, catching Jerome's attention for a split second. I continued staring out the window, into the darkened night of our bustling city.

"You cold?" Jerome reached out, turning up the heat. I nodded.

_Yes Jerome, I feel cold. I feel cold because of my breaking heart and my numbing body, the body that feels like it's inching ever so closer to death_… _But that isn't why you asked_…

"God damn, I hate traffic." A sigh left his perfect lips as we once more had to stop, the bustling of wheels on pavement rushing past our stationary position.

_Jerome_…

Goose bumps rushed my skin, the light seeming to remain red for the longest time. Just glowing brightly, taunting me.

_I need to tell him_…

"Jerome, I need to tell you something." Jerome looks to me with a smile, returning his attention back to the road as the light turned green. We began to slowly inch forward.

"Yeah Mitch?"

"I-!" I was cut off by the screeching halt of the Earth, metal crushing. The air in my lungs abandoned me completely; my vision faltering as every little sound disappeared. Darkness awaited me.


	2. Chapter 1 - Past:

_"… But what if… Who I truly am… I do not accept…?"_

_"Then… It's blissful… Knowing that no one… Will ever have to see you."_

**Chapter 1 - Past:**

I couldn't move. It was, as if, I were stuck. Just black for as long as the eye could see. That's all. My heartbeat was slow, as if I were perfectly calm, despite the fact I shouldn't be. My body, it chooses to move on its own. Walking straight, pointlessly wandering, almost as if I weren't even moving. Eventually, as it does every time, my body would once again stop. It was like… I was lost. I couldn't recall what had happened. In fact… I can't recall everything, per say. I know a lot, but none of it is important. None of it is… _personal_.

At one point, I could see myself. It didn't last long. Just long enough for me to see what I looked like. Eventually, I found myself standing still for the longest time, not a thought or movement, blankly casting my gaze upon what wasn't there.

From the darkness, people began to fade in. Two rows, one person aligned with another, all of them different besides one key factor. In one row, they had my eyes. In the other, they had someone else's eyes that I couldn't place my finger on. All of them were guys. The ones in my row always seemed to be taller than the slightly smaller guys in the other row. They were all calm. I knew none of them. There were 15 guys in each row. Although, they could be statues…

In the left row, the one closest to me looked completely different from me, nothing similar about them and me besides our eyes. As the people progressed, the guys on my left slowly began to look more and more like me, the last guy looking nearly identical. The ones across from them looked like…

… I don't know. _What is this?_

Somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, I unintentionally took a step forward. The heavy sound of my footstep echoed, loud and apparent. None of them seemed affected, as if not noticing.

The two rows of people were spaced out fairly well; leaving the size of what could have fit the red carpet between them, plus a railing on either side. So I just slowly made my way towards the people, utterly calm. Like… I knew where I was. As I drew closer to the first set of people, it felt as if every pair of eyes shifted to my form. I passed the first set of people. The second. The third. Now, I stop.

It was like a messed up horror movie. Solid black darkness, statues of people all around me, no knowledge of my whereabouts, and I just heard something behind me. As if… A pin were dropped. That's how silent it was, as if every little thing were dead. The one thing that didn't fit about this '_horror movie_' was that I didn't feel in harm's way. I wasn't being threatened.

I turned anyways. The only thing on the ground was a crown, between the first two people. I didn't move, just stared, curious of its origin. Returning to where it'd been placed, I kneeled down to pick it up. Instead, it vanished as soon as I found it in my grasp. I shifted my vision towards the first two people. They were staring at me, blank and unreadable. The one that looked like me had the crown on his head. My vision faded back to eternal darkness. I was alone. It almost seemed like a movie, the way the images before me glowed faintly, flickering ever so slightly.

The man that looked like me was walking through a castle. He gave orders, even though he was only a prince. He controlled most of the kingdom though, much to his father's approval. Motherless and raised harshly, the prince was a near reflection of a perfect ruler. A perfect dictator. No one messed with him.

Slaves roamed the castle, worked from dusk till dawn, treated as if they weren't even human. The prince walked upstairs, heading down a long, empty hallway. _Are slaves not allowed up there?_ Servants, all girls and around the boys age of 23, would walk by here and there, giving him flirtatious looks that he ignored completely. Eventually, he stopped, throwing a large, heavy pair of wooden doors wide open. There were slaves in there, male slaves, all working. The one that caught my eye was the one that looked like the male across from the prince in his previously frozen state. _Almost_, frozen state. The prince went right up to the slave driver, whom addressed him formally.

"The numbers in the kitchen are running short this week, I'll need to see your list of slaves and transfer one." The slave driver hastily handed over the clipboard in his hands. Skimmed over the list, and casting a glance around the room a few times, the prince carefully looked over all the information of each slave, studying their profile drawings closely. "I'll take him, it says he can cook." The prince determined, shoving the clipboard back into the slave driver's hands.

"Go ahead, your majesty." The slave driver took a step back, his tone mellow. The prince walked around him, heading straight for the boy. I believe the clipboard said his name was Jerry. Jerry was working, working hard, tense like every other worker in the large room. Casting his gaze upwards, Jerry froze at the sight of the approaching prince, shocked.

"Lucky you, you get to cook for a week, let's go." Stopping about 5 feet away, the prince crossed his arms, impatiently waiting. Jerry could only stare. "… Well?" Jerry blinked, quickly realizing he wasn't going mad and cleaning his hands, then approached with precaution. Jerry looked the same age as the prince.

Turning, the prince began to leave as Jerry quickened his pace to keep up with the long strider. Stopping and causing Jerry to freeze in response, the prince turned to Jerry, looking him over before making a face. "You're filthy." Jerry didn't respond. "You don't smell any better than you look either." The prince added, talking with himself now as he turned back around and continued walking. "Clean clothes and a bath, how quickly can that be done…? The better question is how long you need to cook, I guess it doesn't matter, I'm not very picky…" Pausing again, the prince glanced over his shoulder, eyeing Jerry's figure carefully. "… You'll wear some of my old clothing, we're short on time." The prince announced, continuing forward. Not long after, the prince opened up another door and disappeared inside the bedroom, his bedroom. Jerry didn't enter.

Soon returning with a bundle of clothes in his hands and slamming the door behind him, the prince tossed the clothing to Jerry, and then began proceeding on. Taking Jerry to a wash room, the servant girls currently on staff there got him washed up rather quickly, then showed him where he could dress. When Jerry appeared again, dressed in the prince's old clothing, the prince looked him up and down, not seeming very impressed, but shrugged and left, Jerry following. Returning downstairs, the prince led Jerry to the kitchen and left him to cook, sitting in the dining room. Jerry presented the prince with a meal 20 minutes later. Eating his food and seeming to enjoy it, the prince made no sign to thank Jerry.

As days and weeks went on, the prince slowly showed more compassion towards Jerry, to the point where he'd even smile for Jerry, and Jerry alone, as no one could make the prince smile. Jerry never smiled back. Jerry had been made a permanent part of the kitchen staff, though he was still a slave and wouldn't be free to leave the castle and return the next day, so it was almost as if nothing had really changed.

Whenever the prince was left alone, he'd sit down as his stomach turned, hugging himself, as if sick. I understood immediately what he didn't understand. He loved Jerry. The day the Prince, who I later learned was named Michael, decided to tell Jerry about how he felt, Jerry was as depressed as ever, not caring about the world. Jerry didn't even show signs of looking at the Prince. They were in the empty hallway of the second floor again, and Michael had Jerry just standing there, next to a window, just staring at him as Jerry stared at the floor. They were both silent.

"… If I may, why do you keep me?" Jerry's voice was so silent, it was almost as if he didn't have one, or hadn't used his voice in years.

"To whom do you ask that, yourself or I?" The prince's voice was just as mellow as it always was nowadays. He was never harsh sounding with Jerry. He didn't want to be.

"To you, Prince. Why do you keep me?"

"… I do not know." Michael gazed out the window, Jerry not seeming affected by the answer. "I simply wish to be around you… Jerry." Jerry's name was stated slightly louder than anything else, as Michael seemed to have lost Jerry's interest in the conversation. "Please look at me- I mean you no harm." Reaching out, Michael tilted Jerry's head up, locking their gazes. Jerry seemed somewhat surprised by the action, seeing as Michael never made any contact with his form, and if he did, it was simply to hold his hand. "I-… I enjoy your company, Jerry…" Intertwining their fingers, Jerry looked down to their hands, unsure as to what was going on. "I-… I mean… I-…" Jerry looked back up to Michael, not sure what to do. He wasn't supposed to touch the prince- not even the slightest. Yet here he was, holding Michael's hand in a public area, where anyone could see them. Michael stepped closer, just a little, causing Jerry's heart to begin pounding as he took slightly deeper breaths. Jerry didn't want to be hurt for touching the prince, but he couldn't disobey without punishment, so what was he to do? "Jerry… I… Um…" Michael couldn't get the words to form, the words he desperately needed aid from.

Jerry shifted his vision down the hallway for a split second, returning his vision to Michael. He once more shifted his vision away from Michael to stare down the hallway, at the approaching figure, the figure he didn't recognize as a worker from the castle. The figure was silent and cloaked, causing an uneasy feeling to wash over Jerry.

"Please, look at me Jerry." Michael requested as he cupped Jerry's cheek and returned Jerry's attention to him. Despite the fact Jerry so wanted to watch the figure, he tried his best to watch Michael instead. What if the figure wanted to kill Jerry for being so close to the prince? Jerry tried shifting his vision away again. "Jerry, please, focus on me." Michael requested as the figure drew closer and closer. A shaky breath left Jerry's lips as he once again tried his best to focus on Michael. "Jerry… I… I think… that… Um…" Jerry shifted his vision to the figure as whoever it was stopped. The figure pulled out a bow and cocked an arrow. His eyes widening, Jerry just stared, unable to move. "Jerry?" Michael tried, turning around.

The figure shot the arrow; hitting Michael between the eyes before Michael could even react, killing him instantly, and from there, the '_movie_' faltered.

My vision disappeared, and I soon found myself back in the same area where I started, with all the people. But this time it was different. The figures weren't standing in a row; they were all spread out, everyone with their appropriate match and still in, what I take to be, chronological order, all sitting. Jerry and Michael were the ones closest to me, and they simply closed their eyes and smiled. I didn't move, staring them down. Shifting my vision to the next set of people, they were dressed in commoners clothing from some time back in history, like the clothing Jerry and Michael had been wearing. They were smudged in grime, but they were also smiling. There was a pitchfork in front of them. I slowly started towards them.


	3. Chapter 2 - Present:

**Chapter 2 - Present:**

I felt sick to my stomach. All I could do was sit here and watch. Listen to the beeping of the heart monitor. Stare at the emotionless face. Let my glazed eyes wander the still, badly hurt form. The doctors say to give him time. Mitch's family came in for a visit. They were devastated. They've gone back to their hotel now. I've been here all day. The doctors don't mind. They know we were close. They're giving me the slip this time about being here after visiting hours. Tomorrow I'll have to leave. I haven't eaten all day. Seeing food makes me nauseous.

Mitch's family has hope. They're taking the doctors word for Mitch's stable condition so far. They say he'll be fine, and that it's very likely that Mitch will wake up in the future. His mind and body just needs time to heal. The only thing that keeps lingering in my mind is that, what if Mitch doesn't watch up? What if his family loses hope? It's their choice. Mitch's life after a certain period of time will rest in their hands if he doesn't wake up. It sickens me to think they might let him… move on. Just the thought brings more tears to my eyes.

Car accidents can cause traumatic brain injury. Mitch is in a coma. While I got to walk away with nothing more than cuts, bruises, and a broken leg, it's possible he could never open his eyes again. If he stays asleep for longer than the normal period of 4-6 weeks or so, they may come to the conclusion that he's not in a coma. That he's in a vegetative state. And if more time after that passes… They may determine he's in a permanent one. The only thing to do at that point would be to let him… move on.

I'm probably over exaggerating. He'll wake up. He'll be alright. Mitch is always fine. He's always been fine… My mind lingers back to what the doctors found. They found cuts all along his chest, some deeper than most, some longer than others. I can feel my throat closing up. A few of them needed stitches. Mitch was cutting and I didn't notice. He's underweight. He'd been eating fine, and sure, I'd caught him vomiting a few times earlier in the week, but he said he felt sick to his stomach. I left it at that- I didn't suspect that he might be vomiting on purpose, but then again… I didn't suspect the cuts either. He's paler too. I didn't notice until I got here this morning. They said he lost a lot of blood because of the accident. So much, in fact, that even though we crashed right near the hospital and were simple a minute away, he still could've died.

Folding my arms, I rest my head on top of them, crying silently into the chest of the man I grew up with. He's been like this for about five day's now- nearly a week and I'm broken. It's all my fucking fault. When I first got home, to the house we shared, I went to check his room. Mitch was always so happy. He always smiled for me, for all of us, and he never seemed like the person to cut. But sure enough, I found a few razor blades in his medical cabinet, inside a plastic bag. I found a large pack of them inside the closet, well hidden to the point it scared me. I disposed of them immediately. He won't do it again, not on my watch; I'll keep a close eye on him- and on what he buys.

_This is torture_…

The only people that know Mitch is here is his family, Ryan, Kaila, Alanna, and I. We need to tell people though. Our other friends, definitely. His subscribers deserve to know. After all, he hasn't posted content for 5 straight days, and Mitch never does that. I'll have to make a video for him. Sighing, I sit up and wipe at my eyes, a yawn finding my lips as I began to grow tired. Taking a pillow from the empty bed inside this hospital room, I sat back down in my seat, propping my head up as I got comfortable. I fell asleep quickly.

The next morning, I was woken up by Ariel, Mitch's night nurse. She wasn't much older than me and was one of the sweetest girl's I'd ever met. Her hair was a dark mocha brown, her eyes a gorgeous hazel, like Mitch's eyes. Her skin seemed somewhat tan and she was always smiling.

"Good morning, I thought you'd like to wake up, I hope you don't mind." Ariel apologized.

"No, you're fine." I watched her check over Mitch for the last time, yawning softly.

"Alright, well my shifts over now, I hope you have a nice day Jerome." I said goodbye, smiling weakly at her as she left. Damn, I hate Mitch's day nurse. She doesn't focus much on Mitch at all, she'd rather flirt with me, and despite the fact she very well knows I'm engaged, as I've told her many times before to stop because of it.

I stood, stretching as I glanced to the clock. 6:57am. I looked down at Mitch, sadly watching him, as if he'd miraculously wake up. He didn't. I pulled out my phone, dialing Ryan's number, seeing as I can't drive with my broken leg and Alanna went to go visit her family, as she'd planned to do a while ago. After failing to reach him, the fifth time I called, he finally picked up.

"Hello…?" Ryan's voice was groggy, so I'd woken him up.

"It's Jerome; could you pick me up from the hospital?" I quietly asked with my flat voice, the only emotion present being the small traces of sorrow.

"Yeah, I'll be there soon." Ryan yawned. "I'll text you when I'm in the parking lot."

"Ok." I hung up, sitting back down and continuing to stare at Mitch. His chest slowly rose with each breath he took, his body still and the beeping getting to me. "Please wake up…" I whispered under my breath. Nothing. I leaned over his body, bringing a hand to his rather cold face and fixing his dusty brown hair, working with the thick layer of bandages around his forehead and skull until it looked somewhat normal again. _At least he can look somewhat like Mitch_… Weakly smiling, I shakily exhaled, my stomach beginning to turn as I sat back down.

"What was it Mitch…? What did you want to tell me…?" My tears began to roll off my cheeks once more. "What did you want to say that the universe didn't want me to hear…?" My voice was a mere whisper and nothing more, the beeping of the heart monitor seeming louder now in the silence. After waiting for about 10 minutes, just staring at Mitch's seemingly lifeless form, my phone went off. It was Lachlan.

'_Hey, do you and Mitch want to play some lucky block mini games later? PS, sorry it's so early._'

I stared at his text for a long time, eventually managing to figure out what I wanted to say.

'_I can, Mitch can't_.'

'_Why not?_'

'_He's in a coma_.'

It said Lachlan read the text, but he never replied. He was probably shocked. Ryan texted me, saying he was here. I turned my phone off, slipping it in my pocket before getting up, giving Mitch one more glance before making my way from the room.

"Bye…" The hallways were silent, white, nothing but the sound of footsteps echoing off the walls. I informed the lady at the desk that I was leaving and left, quickly spotting Ryan's car in the nearly empty parking lot. He waved, giving me a sleepy smile, but I didn't smile back and just got into the car, muttering a greeting as he pulled out onto the street.

"Are you going to be ok?" Ryan eventually asked as we stopped at a red light. I nodded. "… What are you going to do in the meantime? I mean, you and Mitch moved in together to make more videos with each other-."

"I'm recording with Lachlan later… I told him about Mitch, since he asked if we both wanted to record with him… Want to join us?" Ryan continued driving as the light turned green, but unlike 5 nights ago, a drunk driver didn't hit us. The driver died. He deserved it. It's his fault. Once we got to the house, Ryan parked the car and we both got out, heading inside the dead silent house. I immediately started for my bedroom, getting my camera and starting to record, no questions asked as Ryan entered the room.

"Hey guys, so this isn't a very normal vlog, I'm just recording this to give you some updates. So, I bet you're wondering where Mitch and I have been for the last 5 days. Well, 5 days ago, Mitch and I got in a car crash. I have a broken leg," I turned the camera to my leg as Ryan sat down next to me, and then turned it back on us. "And Mitch… Mitch is in a coma. I'll still be trying to record some videos, but don't expect much for right now, because it's really… It's different; I don't know how to explain it. I just thought I should tell everyone. Thanks for watching, and I'll see you all later. Bye." I stopped recording after that with a sigh, standing and going to my computer. I uploaded the video to my computer, making sure the sound quality was alright and that the video wasn't blurry or anything, but generally I didn't care much.

I went onto YouTube, uploading the video and not giving it a description as I titled it, **Updates**. Then, while that was working its magic, I got up and went to Mitch's room, repeating the process. Once the videos were uploaded, I exited chrome on both computers, letting the devices shut down as Ryan and I went back into the living room. I sat with a sigh, not sure when Lachlan wants to record or what I even wanted to do right now. Ryan sat down next to me.

"… Are you hungry? I could make us some breakfast." Ryan offered.

"… No, thanks." I mumbled, reaching for the TV remote and turning on the TV.


	4. Chapter 3 - Past:

_"… __But… How do I know… When I can be free... Free of this torment…?"_

_"__Dear child… you can't be."_

**Chapter 3 – Past:**

Does time pass here? Or am I frozen? Is any of this really happening? I don't know anymore… I walked calmly towards the fourth set of people. They were both heavily scarred and there was a sword in front of them. They both had crowns on their heads. I stood in front of them for a second, eventually picking up the somewhat heavy object. I wasn't taken anywhere, nothing happened. Whatever's going on, it's starting to have delays, or maybe it's just me. I spun the sword carelessly in my hands, very gently, not that I gave a damn about it. The sword disappeared and I found myself alone for the fourth time.

Images faded in, bloody, gory. I could see my guy, as well as thousands of others, fighting. War, maybe? The image faded and picked up where it was nightfall, the guy wrapping up his torso in bandages, wincing as he did so. He looked in pain. He tossed the extra bandages away, throwing on a shirt and silently leaving the war camp, sneaking out while no one was looking. He crept quietly through the forest, no crown, no armor, and no weapon. Nothing but the clothes on his back and his self defense. He stopped at a sparkling river, quiet, peaceful, untouched and unharmed by war. He smiled softly, sitting in the luscious grass and leaning against a tree, sighing. He let his hand wade in the water, the crisp, cold liquid gliding against his skin like silk.

A twig snapped. He tensed up immediately, catching his breath as he remained absolutely still. Leaves rustled not far off, causing the Prince, as I take it, to start inching into the dark, where he wouldn't be seen as easily. The other guy appeared on the other side of the river, a gleaming sword on his hip, kneeling down and cupping some of the water, drinking it. Sitting back afterwards, he leaned on a tree and closed his eyes, seeming relaxed, like the Prince had been. The Prince looked him over carefully, not sure what to do. He'd come from the opposite direction of him, the direction of the enemy. He didn't have anything that could go against a sword.

The guy opened his eyes again, the Prince still unmoving, careful about every breath he took. The guy set his hand in the water, revealing a gash that would later turn into a scar. The river washed away some of the blood, the other guy wincing, pulling his hand back out and retrieving bandages from his pocket. He _tried_ wrapping his hand up, but failed miserably. He kept on trying, but he couldn't figure out how to properly get it. He hadn't been shown, just like the Prince, who had to learn on his own. Leaves very faintly rustled from behind the Prince, probably made by some animal, causing the guy to very briefly glance up, but return his focus to his hand. His head shot up, a startled look on his face as he stared intently at the prince. The prince swallowed the lump in his throat, not moving.

"Hello…?" The guy faintly called, as if he were seeing things. The prince didn't reply. The guy leaned closer, trying to get a better look. "I can see you…" He added. The prince inclined his head a bit, not sure whether to trust the man or act like he wasn't there. The man just waited, his eyes glancing fairly quickly over the prince once before meeting his gaze again. He set his face. "Either announce yourself or I'll take you as a threat." He threatened, his voice turning cold. The prince, who was rather scared, slowly inched forward, keeping his gaze on the ground, stopping once he was in the light. The man looked him over again, his face softening. "Where are you hiding it?" He questioned. The prince glanced up at him.

"What?" He whispered.

"Your weapon, don't tell me you're out here unarmed." The prince gave him a sheepish look, his face flushing.

"Usually I'm the only on here." He argued quietly. The man smirked, shaking his head, amused.

"Wow. Just… wow." He muttered, once more glancing over the prince. "I don't recognize you."

"I don't recognize you." The prince retorted.

"True." The man shrugged. "So, why are you out here?" The man once more leaned against the tree, relaxing as the prince seemed relatively surprised.

"Uh… It's relaxing." He determined. "Helps get your mind off of war, you know? My mother loved it here…" He explained, leaning against his tree as well.

"Yeah, definitely relaxing." The man replied, smiling from across the river. The prince smiled back. "So, what's your name?"

"Tell me yours first." The prince requested, shrugging.

"I asked." The man answered. The prince sighed, shaking his head.

"It's Max." _No, his name was Maximus, Max is his nickname_. "Yours?"

"James." The man answered. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too…" Max shifted his vision to James' hand, sadly smiling as he softly shook his head. James gave his a confused look. Getting up, clearly unarmed, Max carefully crossed the river, eventually kneeling down next to a tense James as he picked up the ends of the bandage. He removed the loose cloth from James hand, rewrapped it, and then proceeded to properly wrap his hand. James eventually relaxed again, a faint smile on his lips. Once Max finished, he quickly scurried across the river again, sitting back down as James watched him.

"Thanks." They talked for a bit, but eventually Max had to leave, needing sleep, as did James. They left, returning to their camps and getting some sleep. The next day, they fought in the war, but never even noticed each other, covered in blood and unrecognizable in their armor to the other. They never came face to face anyway, despite the fact they were both princes. Later in the night, Max was wrapping up his left shoulder. He'd gotten stabbed pretty hard with a dagger. After he finished with that, he snuck out and went to his river, this time bringing his sword. When he got there, James was already there, surprised to see him again. James smirked. "You came armed." Max sheepishly smiled.

"You scared me last time." He admitted, sitting down. James' hand was still bandaged, and now his right elbow was too, properly this time. They were quiet mostly, small conversations and comments here and there. They grew tired and left again. The next day, they repeated the process, bandaged whatever injuries they had, and '_met_' each other at the river. That time, they said bye. They met the next day, then the next- it went on for 9 straight days. The tenth time they met up, they greeted each other like old friends would, having long conversations, actually sitting on the same side of the river this time. They trusted each other. Not with the facts that they were both royalty, but they trusted each other none the less. Max stood, stretching as he yawned, tired first like all the other nights. "I think I'm going to leave." Max determined, smiling at James as he stood. James nodded, understanding.

"Have a nice night." James stated. Max said bye, giving a slight wave before turning around and beginning to walk off. James caught his wrist, causing Max to freeze and tense up. "Hey… Max?" James started. Max looked back at him, worried and confused. Had he found out Max's secret? "Uh… Could I… Try something?" Max's vision immediately shifted to where James' sword had been, or was, seeing as it was in its sheath and on the ground, out of reach from their current position, no longer on James' hip. "It's nothing that'll hurt you, I just… Uh…" James began to turn pink, moving on to red as well.

"What?" Max whispered as his heart began to race. James got closer, both of them chest to chest as Max took a slow, deep breath, his heart pounding erotically. James brought his hands to the back of Max's head, their faces an inch apart. James faltered, turning crimson as he pulled away again.

"N-never mind." He rushed, grabbing his sword and dashing across the river, disappearing in seconds as Max stood there, stunned. Eventually, Max slowly left, so badly wanting to close the long, long distance between them both. The next day, Max was killing off the enemy, as he always did. He clashed swords with someone that was different that day. Someone that was better at fighting and knew techniques like the back of his hand. He was threatening and Max knew it. As they both tried to throw each other back, their swords pressed firmly together as neither budged, they met gazes and froze, staring at each other. They pulled away. They both had their crowns and that's where their vision sat for the longest time, on the other's crown. They met gazes again. Both were just standing there, in the middle of the battle field, staring pleadingly at the other, hoping it was some sort of nightmare, that it wasn't true.

"Max…?" James whispered so silently it was barely audible over the screams of dying men and women around them.

"James…?" Max whispered back, tears threatening to form in his eyes.

"Why?" James quietly asked. "Why did it have to be you?" He seemed to be talking to himself, and after looking Max up and down a few times, he tightly closed his eyes. "You never tried killing me before- why didn't you? Why?" James demanded, tears running down his face. Max was crying too.

"Because we weren't in battle. I didn't… I don't like hurting people- this wasn't my choice. I never wanted war…" They both got into fighting stances again, Max with his sword out, pointing towards James as he held the object with two hands, shaking.

"You never told me you were-."

"You never told me." Max argued.

"I don't want to fight you…" James quietly muttered.

"I don't want to fight you either…" Max responded. A man from James side spotted the fact that Mitch wasn't far away, not regarding the fact James was there. "… Let's walk away…" Max asked. "Let's pretend this never happened… please…?" James slowly nodded.

"Sure." Max smiled weakly at James, James returning the favor. And suddenly, the world around them seemed to stop, both the prince's wide eyed, both scared, just staring at the other. Max took a half step back, bringing a shaky hand to the dagger launched in his throat, blood falling from his lips rapidly as he couldn't even stand anymore. Blood was pouring from his throat, choking him none the less. The entire war had seemed to stop. James dropped his weapon, rushing to Max and hovering over him, tears falling onto Max's face as Max stared up at him, scared. He couldn't breathe. There was nothing anyone could do; removing the dagger would result in a quicker loss of blood, more so than Max was losing now. James began to silently sob, cupping Max's numbing cheek as Max stared up at him, his vision beginning to lose focus.

"Max, don't leave me… please…" James whispered desperately, cupping his other cheek and bringing their foreheads together. Max's eyelids began to get heavy as they threatened to close. "Max, no, please." James begged. "Please, stay with me…" From nowhere, an arrow was shot right into the side of James' head, killing him nearly instantly as him and Max both died on the battlefield.

I was brought back to where I started once again, my vision shifting blankly to Max and James. They were hand in hand, smiling at me, like every other set of people in the room. I shifted my vision to the next set, approaching them. It's hard to look at them once you know their story. It's hard to look at any of them... _Why does it feel like I'm missing something?_


	5. Chapter 4 - Present:

**Chapter 4 – Present:**

It's surprising how quickly your friends find out about stuff. It's been two weeks since the accident. Two weeks Mitch has been in a coma. My head was resting on his chest as I stared blankly at the wall beyond his feet, everyone else in chairs, around us. The entire pack had come down to keep me company, and Ryan was here too. Kaila wasn't, she was busy. I've barely managed to post 3 videos in the last two weeks, not including the update video. It was quiet, silent besides the beeping that's found a place in my heart by now. I didn't need it, but it felt good to hear nonetheless. I could hear Mitch's heart beating in time with the monitor, and despite the fact I wish I could sit here all day and listen to it, I pulled away again, returning to my upright position.

"I can't believe this is real…" Preston muttered, his fingers intertwined and his chin resting on top of them, his elbows propped on his knees.

"I know…" Vikk replied, leaning back as he crossed his arms.

"At least he's alive." Rob stated, smiling sadly.

"Yeah, and the doctors did say he'd wake up… most likely." Lachlan determined, smiling as well.

"What if he doesn't…?" The room once more went silent. They all gave me sad looks, but I left my gaze on Mitch, not removing it. "What if they're wrong?"

"He'll be fine Jerome, let's not think about that. Mitch is always fine." Rob assured.

"He was cutting and losing weight and none of us noticed. How is that fine?" I snapped, running a hand through my hair. The room was once more silent. "… I'm sorry. It's my fault he's in here, I'm just stressed." They all nodded, understanding. "Uh… I'm ready when you guys are…"

"Do you want to play some games? We don't even have to record, we can just play." Ryan suggested. I shrugged.

"Sure, why not…" I mumbled, standing along with the rest of them. I looked once more to Mitch, and before leaving, I leaned over his body, once more fixing his hair, seeing as the doctors messed it up when they changed his bandages. I pulled away after that. "Bye…" I whispered, leaving. We all went to our cars, getting in and driving back to the house, and once we got there, everyone went inside and we all got our computers set up. I was in my room while pretty much everyone else was spread out around the house. Connecting on a Skype call, we all got onto the Nexus and started playing random games. They'd be laughing, arguing, and battling each other, talking in general while I remained quiet in the background, never really trying.

I hadn't won a single game so far, not that I cared. The point was that it isn't helping.

"Jerome, dude, did you just die _again?_" Lachlan questioned.

"Sorry…" I muttered, respawning. We were currently playing SWAT, one of the currently new games on the server. I was one of the first to die in the elimination round from my lack of enthusiasm and hadn't gotten a single kill streak so far.

"Nah, dude, you're fine." Preston assured me. _Mitch and I played this before_… The game ended, the other team winning as we spawned back in the main area.

"Ok, what do we play next?" Ryan asked.

"I'm hungry, actually." Vikk announced.

"We can take a break, you guys up for pizza?" We all agreed, logging off of Minecraft. I maybe my way downstairs, being met with a swarm of friends that all began to hug me for no reason at all. It was comforting though, so all I did was close my eyes and lean on whoever was to my left.

"Hey, what do you guys want on your pizza?" Lachlan asked.

"I don't really care." Vikk insisted. I opened my eyes to catch everyone else nodding along.

"Let's not do any toppings…" I requested. "Just plain pizza, if you guys don't mind."

"All right, give me a minute." Lachlan declared, dialing a number and walking off. We all gathered in the living room, sitting down on the couches and armchairs, Preston taking the remote and turning on the TV.

"What shall we watch…?" He questioned, scrolling through the guide.

"We could watch Netflix." Rob suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that." Preston answered as he smiled. "… How do I do that?" I chuckled, picking up another remote and turning on Netflix. He signed in as Mitch and I, seeing as we shared one account now that we lived together, and started scrolling through random selections, until stopping upon Futurama. "What'd you say guys?" Preston teased, playing it anyway.

"Wow, such a classic Preston, how'd you know?!" Ryan sarcastically responded, Lachlan jumping into the seat next to me.

"What?" Lachlan asked, confused. Futurama started playing, causing Lachlan to laugh. I rolled my eyes, smiling. We watched random episodes here and there, and even I started to laugh at some of the stupid stuff the characters did. When the pizza got here, Lachlan paid for it, grabbing some paper plates from the kitchen and serving us all the blank, cheesy slices. The pizza sat on the coffee table between us all, all of us laughing as we consumed the entire thing before the night had ended.

"Hey, thanks for coming you guys. It really helps." I announced, placing my empty plate inside the greasy, now empty box where a pizza once sat.

"Well when we saw the video we had to come!" Vikk insisted, finishing off his last slice as well.

"Jerome, you simply don't understand how traumatizing something like a car crash is, especially when you have to deal with the results alone. It's not like we'd just leave you here to sulk." Rob exclaimed.

"He would've had Kaila and me." Ryan determined with a shrug. "BUT, I guess we just aren't good enough to satisfy the bac." I laughed.

"Thanks, guys." I mumbled, stretching.

"How long do you have to wear the cast?" Lachlan questioned, everyone looking to my leg.

"Oh, not log actually." I looked down to the black cast as well. "The doctor said it'll come off around 2 weeks from now at the least, considering I've had it on for 2 weeks now." _He also said Mitch should be awake by then_...

"Has anyone else just realized how blank Jerome's cast is?" Lachlan asked. They all grinned. I smiled, rolling my eyes again.

"I have some sharpies in my office." They took off up the stairs in a record timing, returning quickly with Vikk as their leader, the one who got the silver sharpie first. I place my foot on the coffee table, holding it there as, one by one, they all signed my cast. I put my leg back down afterwards. "Alright, with that over with, shall we do something else?"

"Want to try recording? I mean, you're in a better mood now, so." Preston suggested. I nodded.

"Sure, I haven't posted a video in a while." I stood, grabbing my crutches and making my way towards my room.

"Hey, Jerome." I looked over my shoulder, pausing to take the sharpie from Ryan's outstretched hand.

"Thanks." I got to my office, sitting down at my computer and getting comfortable, putting the sharpie back in its place and getting onto Skype. I was called by Lachlan a few minutes later, everyone on the call.

"Alright, what shall we record?" Preston asked.

"We could record some… Minecraft." Ryan teased. I snickered.

"Let's play SWAT or something." I suggested, getting onto the Nexus. A thought struck my mind. Grabbing the silver sharpie again, I popped the cap off, reaching down and writing neatly on my foot in big letters: _Mitch_. I smiled. _That's better_.


	6. Chapter 5 - Past:

_"__And… what about… the sickened feeling... running in my veins…?"_

_"__Well… You'll just have to deal with it."_

**Chapter 5:**

By now, I had gone through the lives of 12 different people. 12 innocent and undeserving people. It's getting into later times now. The medieval era, maybe? I don't know. All I know is that guns have been invented now.

The next pair of people were dressed in complete black, faces smudged with a black dust and both of them smiling at me. I glanced around, but saw no item in front of them. I met the eyes of the man that was supposedly me from what I'm beginning to gather, and he simply glanced to his partner. I looked to him as well. His partner held out a pistol. I took it without hesitation, my mind beginning to race. _Why a pistol? What happened?_

I was brought back to the lonely room where I peered into the past, seeing both of them, getting dressed in the black outfit. Images began to flash, summing up their childhoods and why they were what they were today. They got ready and left their shared house, silent and blending with the dark, eerie night. They jumped on the rooftops, flash and quick to dash away from any light, but no, they were no thieves. Much worse.

They found their target, breaking into his house while not creating a sound, silently surrounding him as Jackson, as the summary had proclaimed, pulled out the gun he handed me, Mack, as the summary had once again proclaimed, placed a pillow over the man's head. Jackson pushed the gun against where his temple would be and shot. Feathers flew around the room as the man died in his sleep, not feeling a thing. They looked at each other, and then left, not leaving any trace, seeing as their entire bodies were covered. Hands, head, feet, even their hair was pulled back tightly and hidden behind a hat. They got back to their apartment, stripped of their '_uniforms_', hid them well, and went to bed.

The next morning they were woken by Jackson's girlfriend Patricia. She made them breakfast, and Jackson treated her so well, loved her so much. Mack's heart couldn't bring himself to say anything. He loved Jackson, as all of my duplicates do. But what through me off about these people was the fact that Jackson liked Mack too. Neither had the guts to tell the other. The next night, they killed another person. The process repeated over, and over again.

But certain people were catching on to them.

There was a group out there determined to stop these '_random killings_' and bring justice to the ones responsible. Funny, the fact that Jackson and Mack were a part of that group. All just a way to lead them off their own tracks. Cover more ground where they may have fucked up, per say. But some of the other members were beginning to feel suspicious about them, despite the fact they've been big assets to the group of justice seekers. But they had no proof or evidence, so what could they do to start investigating Mack and Jackson? Nothing.

Mack and Jackson were hired to kill random people, people they didn't know. Then, they were ordered to kill Victor, one of the members of the group that was looking for them. They didn't even hesitate. Victor was the one that kept proposing they weren't to be trusted. Once he was gone, they'd basically control the group. So they killed him like all the others. In his sleep, at his own home, exactly at midnight.

It was the biggest mistake they could have ever made. They may have been professionals, but everyone fucks up from time to time, right? Victor's death put the other members at a distance from Mack and Jackson. They lost the other member's trust. They really thought that Mack and Jackson were liable suspects now. So, Peter, Robert, Rylan, and Larry all started to watch them closely. Mack and Jackson could sense the tension from each of the other members, but acted like nothing was wrong, they acted furious and driven to find the killers. I mean, the killers did kill one of their '_best friends_'.

Every night, they continued to kill, not giving a damn that the group was onto them. After all, if they stopped killing, wouldn't that just strengthen the idea that they were the killers. No one outside the group knows what goes on in there. They're the suspects, and they should feel threatened. If they stop killing, they basically put targets on their backs and give the others loaded guns. So why stop killing?

It isn't the killing they find the most enjoyable. Not even the hefty pay check that comes with it. It isn't the torture the victims' families go through or the strategy of the kill. Not the creativeness in the plot of their crime or the rush of blood draining from a soon-to-be corpse. No, what they enjoy is the fact that they rule the game. They made the game and control the players. They can change the rules and move as many spaces as they want- forwards and backwards. They can leave the game at anytime and return at their own will- for they aren't bound to it like the rest of the players. They're unstoppable in their territory and won't back down from any fight. They're the creators, and everyone else is a pawn.

They killed every night for a week before the group began to trust that they weren't the killers. They hadn't acted differently and everyone saw that. But then, they were ordered to kill Robert. So they did. Peter was torn. Robert was his boyfriend. He could barely get out of bed in the morning and mourned for weeks. The group once more set the two as suspects. Robert had been insisting to not let Mack and Jackson off the hook. He wanted them to remain suspects because he was _positive_ it was them. No one outside the group would know that.

But Mack and Jackson played in carefully and didn't act differently. Later that night, they got a note from their boss that explained, since they'd killed 50 people in a row, they deserved a night off. So, since Patricia was visiting her sick mother for the night and wasn't there, they opened up a bottle of a strong beer each, celebrating to themselves. They both got drunk. It took two and a half bottles for Mack and 4 bottles for Jackson. They were as drunk as they ever had been before and couldn't even take a step without stumbling and needing support.

Mack stumbled towards Jackson, who was sitting on the couch and opening up another bottle of the retched, vile liquid, swallowing mouthfuls as Mack sat down next to him, hiccupping. Jackson laughed at him, hiccupping himself as he set the bottle down carefully on the counter. He turned to Mack, pulling him close and deeply inhaling the scent of his hair. Mack giggled, hiccupping again, his body bouncing slightly.

"You, *hiccup*, are looking, *hiccup*, totally fuckable right now." Jackson declared, his voice slurred. Mack just giggled. "And, *hiccup*, I just might- *hiccup*, do that." Jackson added, completely drunk. Unfortunately, considering how little they've ever drank in their lives, they passed out before that ever happened. Not even a simple, drunken kiss. Mack woke up first, the time 3am as he stood, feeling completely and utterly sick. He ran to the bathroom and just started to vomit. When he was done, he cleaned himself up and returned to the living room, still wobbly as he looked at Jackson, who was still asleep, his 5th, rather full bottle of beer still sitting on the table. Mack began to clean up. Once the house was fixed again, he left Jackson on the couch, not remembering anything that happened and going to bed.

The next day, the group was nearly positive it was them. They planned on confronting them that night. The day went by normally, and then, at the end of the day, Rylan asked if they could come over, to hang out for old time's sake. Mack and Jackson agreed, happy to have them. Not. They were worried as hell. What if they stayed overnight? Never fell asleep? What if their boss sent them a kill order and they found it? So many things could go wrong. But nothing did. Not until that night. Rylan was straight forward with the pair, right in front of Patricia too. He simply told them upfront:

"We know you're the killers." Mack and Jackson pull on their best shocked looks, spitting out denial after denial, like any normal person would do. They played the act well, but not well enough. The group was still convinced. Patricia was surprised, now hesitant around all men, concerned and confused. Preston was furious with them. They killed Victor and Robert. They crossed the line and Preston wanted them to pay, badly, as did Larry and Rylan. So, with one final glance at each other, Mack and Jackson dashed upstairs, slammed their door shut with the angry men on the other side of it as they locked and barricaded the door. They got dressed and took off. They now had no choice but to kill their '_best friends_', and Patricia.

So they stalked the rooftops around their house, and it didn't take long for two of the three men to pour out and start searching the entire city. They reentered the house silently, Patricia cleaning, Larry helping her. Patricia looked scared. Jackson pulled out his gun, neither Larry or Patricia seeing them yet. He aimed carefully, and Larry turned around, seeing them. He instantly had his gun drawn.

"Put it down, right now- I'll shoot." Larry threatened, Patricia backing away slowly. Jackson, having perfected his aim on Larry, shot without warning. Most killers don't do that, they freeze up at the sign of cops, but no, Jackson would rather shoot and make some noise then not do anything at all. Both men looked to Patricia, who backed herself into a corner. Jackson pointed the gun at her, but didn't shoot, faltering. Mack outstretched his hand for the gun, receiving it from Jackson as Jackson looked away. Mack took aim, and almost smiled as he thought about how long he'd wanted to do this. He almost smiled as he saw the fear in her eyes- fear of him- of the gun. And as he fired, getting her between the eyes as the sound rang out like thunder, he did smile. Then they took off for the other two.

They found Peter first, cornering him easily. Peter growled at the two, going to draw his gun, but Jackson shot him in the wrist, earning a cry from the man. Mack ran at Peter, tackling him down as Peter fought against him, thrashing around as Mack pulled him to his feet and slammed his weak form against the wall. Jackson came over, Peter breathing heavily as he knew what was coming. Jackson took aim. Peter closed his eyes, the only thought running through his head being that of Robert. Not even caring about the loud blasts, Jackson shot Peter 6 times in the head, ensuring he was dead. They left him and searched for Rylan.

Once they found Rylan, they trapped him in an alleyway, Jackson at the mouth of it as Mack inched closer and closer, smirking deviously. Rylan pulled out his gun. Mack charged at him with a burst of speed and adrenaline, tackling the larger man down with ease as they wrestled around, trying to overtake the other. Jackson couldn't aim properly from all the movement, so he waited with his fingers anxiously around the trigger. Rylan pulled a knife out of nowhere; he probably had one in his pocket or boot. Mack managed to dodge each swing and pull the thrashing Rylan to his feet, disarming him of both weapons. Rylan was stronger than Mack, so he was able to thrash around enough to the point where Jackson couldn't get a clear enough shot. Though, even if he was stronger, Mack managed to hold him still enough for Jackson to aim from his spot and shoot 7 pr 8 bullets into his skull.

Rylan was dropped, and as he fell away, Mack's shocked, paling face was revealed, as well as the gunshot wound in his neck, bleeding rapidly. The bullet had gone through Rylan's head and into Mack's neck, and Jackson looked terrified, rushing to Mack and managing to catch his limp form. Jackson screamed for Mack, but Mack was gone and neither had revealed their secrets. Jackson, now having nothing, lifted his gun to his temple, holding Mack in his arms as he sobbed, and shot himself, both laying in the arms of the other.

I was brought back to what I took to be the '_main area_' of this place, seeing all the duplicating lives. The pattern just kept repeating, but each time it was a different story. A different time period, a different set of lives. I started walking towards the eighth set of people.


	7. Chapter 6 - Present:

**(NOTICE: Castle is a real TV show, it plays on TNT and I suggest watching it. It's my favorite show. Don't judge me! ~. Also, for anyone who noticed my flaw in the previous chapter, I did go and fix it, the chapter has changed slightly towards the end and is longer now, so please reread it! Thanks!)**

**Chapter 6:**

I'm just crying every time I see his pale face now. I can't stop myself; it's all I can do with him now. I don't cry around the rest of the pack, it's more painful like that. Crying with Mitch is easier because I know he won't try telling me he's fine. Three and a half weeks. It's been three and a half weeks since the accident, since he fell into this state. I'll be getting my cast off soon and he's still not awake. His name on my foot brings very little comfort. All I want is to cry- cry until I have no more tears and come back tomorrow to repeat the process. I act happy around everyone else. They think I'm doing fine, but I'm breaking inside. It's so hard…

I just want Mitch back.

My throat was closed up and I could barely breathe. My head was pounding and I could only stare at him. Stare at all his flaws and imperfections. See everything that makes him perfect and shapes who he is. He had gotten just a tad less pale since I came yesterday. His hair was still fine, but it was getting greasy from his unclean state. I want him to wake up. I want him to talk to me- people do that in comas, don't they? No matter how hard I've tried, every conversation starter I've used isn't working on him. I've talked about how lonely it is at home, about my broken leg and all the guys at the house, how we were all waiting for him to wake up and come back to us, plus lots of other stuff.

But of course, nothing I've tried has worked. So now I was just staining his gown with tears, holding back sobs and trying to calm down. I didn't like to act calm in this room, but I need to leave soon, the pack will be getting me shortly. We've all played lots of games, prerecorded some stuff, and have watched tons of Netflix the week they've been here. Even if they haven't visited Mitch much at all, I know they care. My phone went off, and looking at it, it was a text from Preston.

'_We'll be there soon, meet us out front_.'

I didn't reply, just sighed, finally managing to calm down. I looked to Mitch's face, his calm, relaxed, peaceful face.

"Oh Mitch… What did you want to tell me…? Can't you tell me…? Please…?" I whispered, barely hearing myself as I closed my eyes, his heart beat soothing to hear. He didn't answer. I didn't expect him to; neither did I want to know the answer. Maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe it was what he was going through. Maybe he wants to tell me in person. I'm just curious about it now, about the fact he tried to tell me and fate cut him off before he could spit out two words. I leaned over him, wrapping my arms gently around him and burying my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He still smelled like Mitch. "Bye…" I whispered, releasing him and leaving.

I walked through the white tiled hallways, not meeting anyone's gaze. I checked out, made my way out front, and sat down, waiting with my crutches at my side. About 3 minutes later, Ryan, Preston, and Rob all showed up, Preston getting the car door for me before I could.

"Where're Vikk and Lachlan?" I asked.

"Getting fries." Rob informed me.

"… Why?" I questioned.

"They wanted fries and don't want to cook." Preston corrected.

"Ah, right, and they're getting us some too, correct?" I was kind of hungry myself. They all nodded. "Awesome."

"Yeah, we can just eat fries for dinner or something… _Or_ order another pizza." I chuckled, as did Rob and Ryan, Preston making a stupid face, but then chuckling as well. We all went quiet after that. Once we were back to the house, we all got out, going inside to find Lachlan and Vikk. They had a rather large salad bowl, filled to the brim with McDonald French fries.

"Oh my god, how many fries did you think we needed?" I questioned, sitting down next to them. They shrugged.

"We were hungry." Lachlan determined, flipping through some different stations. "Hey, you want to watch Castle?"

"What's that?" Ryan questioned as Lachlan put it on anyways. It picked up with a fight scene, guns getting fired and causing us all to flinch.

"I don't know, it just looked interesting." Lachlan informed us, putting the bowl of fries onto the coffee table.

"Bored with his success, celebrated mystery novelist Rick Castle teams with NYPD Detective Kate Beckett to solve the case of a copycat killer who re-creates murder scenes from Rick's novels. While solving the case, the two realize that their unorthodox partnership has its benefits and decide to continue working together. Combining his writer's intuition with her creative detective work, they investigate strange homicides in New York, all the while building a strong, if complicated, relationship with each other." Preston announced, reading from his phone. "Or, that's how the producers put it." He added, placing his phone on the table.

"What episode is this?" Vikk questioned. Lachlan went to the guide.

"Season 7, episode 18. It's called '_At Close Range_', want to restart it?"

"Sure." Lachlan restarted the episode, seeing as it hadn't been playing very long anyway. Some guy in a suit walked into a restroom, music playing as it started sounding intense. He paced for a bit, the camera angle skipping around partially, until he was leaned over a sink and looked up, staring at his reflection. From nowhere, he punched the mirror, seeming upset. **6 hours earlier…** appeared on the screen, the background black and the words white.

"I'm generally interested now." Preston declared, grabbing a handful of fries.

The scene picked up with the same guy, as well as two other guys and a woman. The guy standing next to the woman was going on a rant about something, then, as the woman declared, found out his best friends had lied to him and caused him to waste 3 hours of his life watching 15 boring presentations. We found out that was Castle, as everyone called him. The conversation continued with an offer to drink at a bar, which was turned down by the restroom guy. As he was leaving, Castle stepped to the side, gasping.

"Ryan! Is it One Direction? You'd tell me, right?" Castle asked, being serious.

"Ryan, you didn't tell us you were an actor!" I teased. "Or that you had anger issues." I added, grabbing some fries and munching on them. The episode continued, the entire thing being an hour long and honestly, it was a great show. The next episode that played right after that was S7E19, the newest one. We watched that as well. In fact, Castle was going to be playing for a while. It picked up with the very first episode, called '_Flowers For Your Grave_'. Some girl was dead, two bullet wounds to the chest, and was completely naked, covered with red rose petals, two daisies over her eyes. Kate's hair was way shorter, and she was super serious about her job, not even smiling like she was in the other two episodes.

By the time we finished watching what episodes of Castle were playing tonight; I had it set to record any and all episodes. The bowl of fries was empty, surprisingly. I checked my YouTube account, making sure the prerecorded videos were uploading as they should have been, and they were, so that was good.

"Well boys, what now?" Lachlan questioned. I stretched, yawning as I glanced at the time on my phone. _10:00pm_.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep." I determined, getting up. They all said goodnight as I went to my room, closing the door and locking it. Sitting down on my bed, I set my crutches aside and stripped of my shirt, though that was the easy part. After a fairly long battle with my cast, I finally managed to get my pants off as well, sighing. I swung my legs up onto the bed, getting under the covers and propping my leg up slightly with a pillow. I laid there for a while, until looking to my bedside table and reaching over, turning out the lights and closing my eyes, slowly drifting off the sleep.

_Mitch and I were driving in the car, my vision focused on the road as we took a detour, avoiding road construction. Mitch had been quiet the whole time, but I wasn't worried, he was usually always focusing on the road during car rides. It helps with headaches for some people, I know that much. I glanced over to my right to keep an eye on the surroundings, catching Mitch shiver._

_"__You cold?" I reached out and turned up the heat slight. He nodded, not saying anything. I sighed heavily. "Damn, I hate traffic." I muttered, having to stop once more at a red light. Cars drove by as the light stayed green for a long time, chipping away at my annoyance._

_"__Jerome, I need to tell you something." Mitch suddenly blurted out, sounding urgent. The light turned green and I began to pull forward, glancing to him, but then looking around._

_"__Yeah Mitch?" I didn't hear what he said due to the fact a car came from nowhere and rammed right into us. Extreme pain rushed through my leg and I black out from the impact. I woke up underneath rubble not too long later, not wanting to move, soon found by police and helped onto a stretcher, catching a glimpse of the nearby hospital. I was sitting up, the only thing that was really putting me in pain was my leg, but I couldn't think straight. What happened, wasn't I with-? "Where's Mitc-." I cut myself off, coughing as I was carefully lied down._

_"__Was he the one with you? In the red and black hoodie?" A nurse calmly questioned as I was wheeled by foot to the hospital, seeing as it was literally right there. I nodded, another nurse appearing. She gave me a sad look, glancing to the other nurse as that nurse copied the look._

_"__What?" I tried to sit up as I was blinded by bright lights, entering the hospital and leaving the dark night._

_"__Sir, your friend is already getting taken care of, but he was losing blood and loosing it fast. If you hadn't been outside the hospital, he'd be dead right now." I went pale._

_"__Is he going to be-?" I coughed again. "Will he be okay?" I finished._

_"__We don't know yet."_

I shot up, breathing heavily as sweat ran down my face. I closed my eyes and used the blanket to wipe it away, feeling too hot in my own bed to sit here any longer. Grabbing my crutches, I pull on a pair of pants, not bothering with a shirt and heading to the kitchen. The clock on the oven said it was 3:47am. I opened the fridge, grabbing myself an ice cold bottle of water and sliding into one of the bar stools. I drank the refreshing liquid as my mind lingered back to my dream.

_That's exactly what happened_…

I wanted to run to Mitch when I heard that- it was all my fault we got hit, I wasn't careful enough. I was so scared- I really did try to get off of that stretcher after that. They kept me on it though, I think they drugged me. I can't remember anymore… All I know is it's my fault.


	8. Chapter 7 - Past:

**(CAUTION: Extreme Trigger Warning.)**

_"__Why do I feel… So empty?"_

_"__Because child… You're truly alone now."_

**Chapter 7 - Past:**

These people. All of these people have died in such horrid ways- the nature of the deaths varying in general. But my body refused to act as if I cared. I couldn't feel anything here. My face was blank and I didn't want to smile or frown, despite the fact I knew I could. It felt like something was weighing me down, I just don't understand why. _It must be something personal_.

I approached the next set of people, the twelfth set to be exact. After this, I have 3 more lifetimes to intrude on. The people looked normal, the person that has my eyes looking more like me. A lot more like me. I stopped in front of the pair, and neither looked hurt, neither looked like they'd died. _Maybe an illness…?_ I waited, eyes skimming over them both, until eventually, my guy outstretched his hand, as if for a handshake. I took it, and was teleported to the viewing area. _What?_ Everything was nearly caught up to the times I remember, everything getting there and everything advancing by now.

My guys name was Markus and the other guys name was Jake. They were best friends, always had been. Jake had a girlfriend. She was beautiful, her name was Donna. Markus was utterly jealous, and would've told Jake about liking him for the longest time, but… He didn't want to ruin what little happiness Jake had for his own selfishness. Jake and Markus had lots of friends. Parties were thrown by their friends quite often as well, though they mostly stayed at home watching TV, or just hanging out together. Whatever Jake wanted to do, Markus was right at his side, like a sidekick in a way. Whatever Donna wanted to do, Jake wanted to do.

So they were, in a way, the three musketeers most of the time. Unfortunately for Markus, whenever Donna was in the picture, he became the third wheel. He didn't mind it that much, it just stung. Like the cuts along his inner thighs and wrists. He blamed himself for being so weak. And every day, it was slowly getting harder and harder. He used to go nearly a full 3 months, clean. Now, it's hard to go 3 days. And all because of Donna.

This lifetime was really getting to me; my stomach was turning, as I didn't feel alright. _Something personal_. Swallowing the lump in my throat, my face remained blank and straight as I continued to watch.

One day after the other, Markus was slowly becoming more and more of a third wheel, to the point where he could be right next to either of them and not be acknowledged at all, as if he were a ghost. That's how he was beginning to feel as well. He felt invisible, like no one cared for him anymore. So, every chance he got, he'd let the feelings of loneliness and abandonment flow away with the iron of his blood and the salt of his tears, the shaky breaths and the quiet sobs. Because ever since high school, he'd known only one way to make the pain disappear. Because in high school he was bullied terribly- in high school, he loved Jake. But Jake always had a girlfriend, and whenever he was dumped it was like girls were lined up, ready to be chosen. Because Jake was that kind of guy and no matter how much Markus tried, he knew he'd never be able to join that line. So in a way, it was always Jake. Markus only knew what had been embedded in his mind, and that was this: Would you rather deal with a little cut or physical abuse? Would you rather deal with a simple, quick pinch, or excruciating emotional drama? It was as simple as that.

One day, when the 3 decided to see one of the newer movies coming out in theaters, Jake left Donna and Markus alone. Just 5 minutes. That's all it took to break him. Once Jake was gone, Donna turned to Markus and glared, a threatening growl escaping her lips as Markus took a step away, shocked.

"I don't know who the _hell_ you think you are- but this was supposed to be _our_ date- _you_ were _never_ in the picture!" Donna quietly whispered. "Are you just so _desperate_ for attention that you have to get between us all the fucking time? Well news flash- it's getting old and we're both getting fucking sick and tired of it. Make up an excuse and _beat it_." Donna ordered, leaning against the wall and not looking Markus in the eye. Markus just stood there, shocked and unable to move. Had Jake really hated his presence so much? Markus hadn't noticed. Mainly because it was a lie- Jake adored Markus' presence. Jake couldn't remember a time when he was without it! But Markus was too shocked from Donna's outburst to realize that, seeing as Donna is a sweet, caring, loving person. She only snaps when she means something. _Or_ when she thinks she knows what's best for everyone.

So, tears streaming his face, Markus turned and ran, not caring who saw him or where he went- he just wanted to get away from Donna- no, from _them_. He had been so caught up in what they always did together that he hadn't realized it was causing the one he loved most pain. Pain that wasn't real. It was storming, Markus tugging his jacket on tighter and just swiftly walking down the sidewalk, trying not to sob. He didn't want to cry over something that could so easily be fixed with a simple slice. His home was somewhat far away, but he didn't care, just kept walking and tried to be quick about it.

But, considering how used to Jake's presence and guidance he was, Markus didn't know the streets like the back of his hand, getting lost. It didn't help his mood and he did start to quietly sob. Without Jake, he didn't know what to do. He felt he'd simply lost his best friend, lost a part of his life. Jake acted like he didn't care. And Donna did say Jake was tired of him always _there_. Markus bumped into a young woman, apologizing quickly. But before she could walk away, he stopped her and asked for directions. After receiving them, he turned around and started running. He wasn't too far away; he just took a wrong turn a little ways back. After correcting his mistake, he continued to briskly walk through the hardly see through storm, drenched and shaking. He sneezed, most likely coming down with a cold. He didn't care anymore.

Scrambling to pull his keys from his pockets, Markus unlocked his front door, going inside and slamming the door shut again, breaking down both mentally and physically at this point. He didn't bother removing his wet clothing, just stumbled into the kitchen and caught himself on the counter, water dripping in small puddles on the floor. His vision landed on a small knife, one for cutting up fruits and vegetables. He picked it up, stripped of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing all the other scars to the dim, flickering light of his kitchen.

Once for Donna. Once for fucking everything up. Again for his life, which had been thrown away at this point. And deeply for Jake. Again, for Jake. Jake, Jake- over and over again, for Jake! Because Markus didn't want to forget Jake. And lastly, 5 more times for the pleasure of it all. Shakily breathing, Markus' arm stretched out and laying flat on the marble counter, Markus left the bloody knife next to the medium sized, still growing pool of blood forming from his arm. He'd cut too deeply and was bleeding badly, but he didn't care. No, it didn't matter to him anymore. Because the searing pain in his arm would mask the pain of his shattering heart. But, it wasn't enough. No, it would never be enough anymore.

Markus shifted his blurry vision to the fridge. He stumbled over, opening the fridge door as he left a bloody handprint on the handle, another thick, red pool forming as the iron-tasting substance dripped rapidly from his elbow, sounding like the pattering footsteps of the rain above. Pulling out a large bottle of beer and slamming the fridge door shut, Markus leaned his back against the nearby wall, gulping lots of the horrid liquid down, blood still painting his black and white tiled floor. No matter how much he drank, it didn't help him to forget and the blood never stopped flowing, causing his body to feel weak and his skin to get pale quickly. Markus' eyes landed on a bottle of Tylenol. Without thinking, Markus picked it up and opened the bottle, not crying anymore and only one thought running through his head.

Jake doesn't need me anymore. He doesn't want me. He hates me. So why wait for him?

One pill for Donna. One for Ashley. One for Brittney. One for each and every one of Jake's girlfriends. That already totally 12 pills. 5 more for Jake. 2 for fucking up over and over again. And lastly, 1 for the headache Markus had all day that day. 20 pills. Markus took the bottle of beer shakily in his hand, tossing the still open Tylenol onto the counter as they spilled everywhere, scampering around the floor and countertop. As he stumbled from the room, managing to get upstairs as a trail of blood was left in his wake; Markus grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down a note. He placed the note on his bedside table, finishing off the beer and placing it on the bedside table as well, then falling onto the bed and lying there as he drifted asleep. The 20 pills, 16 cuts, half of which were too deep, and 22 ounces of beer all worked their magic, each playing a role in slowly killing him. The cuts allowed his blood to drain, staining the bed sheets crimson as Markus' body became purely white in a matter of hours. The pills will cause liver damage, _severe_ liver damage. It's already causing liver damage from the overdose alone, but considering he's been drinking alcohol, it's basically like telling his body its use was no longer needed. And that's exactly what he wanted.

The next day, Jake arrived, knocking on the door, a sad look on his face. He broke up with Donna. She'd become too clingy for him, and he just didn't like the fact she was keeping all of his time off of Markus. She'd told him exactly what she did and Jake knew he needed to see Markus. He knocked again. Still, no answer, despite the fact that Markus was always home at 6am, no matter the day or event. Jake knocked again, louder this time. Nothing. He stepped back, pulling a spare key from his pocket and unlocking the door, only to find it was already unlocked. He went inside, instantly spotting the trail of blood. He wasn't sure whether it came from upstairs or from the kitchen, so slowly letting his jacket slip from his hand, he walked to the kitchen.

He went pale, eyes wide in shock and fear as he just stood at the mouth of the archway. His throat was closed, and all he could think about was why? Why was there blood everywhere- why were pills scattered all over the place? He turned and ran upstairs. Throwing Markus' bedroom door open, he was instantly at the pale boy's side, checking each and every one of his pulses as he began to cry. Why? Jake sat there; sobbing as he cradled the thin, white boy in his arms, his blood having stopped it's continuous flow and his light mocha colored hair seeming dull and flat. Jake shifted his blurry vision to the beer bottle. He saw the paper and shakily picked it up, reading it.

_I doubt you're reading this Jake. I doubt you care, but I'm sorry_.

That's all he managed to write before he passed out and closed his eyes forever. Jake held Markus tighter, sobbing harder now as he didn't want to move. But when he did finally move, it was to grab one of the beers from the fridge and gather the remaining pills. To then proceed to lie down in the bloody, soaked sheets and cradle the cold, icy body of his best friend until death did them part.

I soon found myself with nothing more to watch, being brought back to the main area as I softly closed my eyes, my stomach finally managing to settle as I swallowed the lump in my throat, then proceeded on to the thirteenth set of people. _Hmn…_


	9. Chapter 8 - Present:

**(Short chapter, sorry!)**

**Chapter 8 - Present:**

I walked down the white hallways, over the white tiles that lined up perfectly. I stopped at the room I'd memorized perfectly, going inside. I blinked. Connor met my gaze, his face stained with tears. He stared at me; fresh tears still spilling down his face as he tried to wipe them away quickly.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know you were here." I informed him, not moving from the doorway as I gave him an apologetic look. He just began crying again. I quickly shut the door and hurried over to him, pulling the smaller boy into a tight hug. His arms were wrapped around my waist, his head buried in my chest as the choked sobbing sounds seemed louder in the smaller room.

"Why won't Mitch wake up?!" Conner demanded, choking on his waterlogged voice as he looked up to me, my shirt soaked and stained with tears.

"I don't know." I answered as tears of my own began building in my eyes. He gently nudged my leg with his foot, sniffling as he placed his head on my shoulder, staring at the wall off to the side.

"You got the cast off." He announced, looking up to me again.

"My legs all better now." I assured with a soft smile. More tears started rolling from his eyes.

"They said Mitch would be awake by the time you got your cast off-." He broke down sobbing again, not able to finish. I pulled him closer, sitting down and holding him on my lap, cradling him like a parent would, though I was doing it as more of a brotherly figure. I've known him all my life basically; I _was_ like another brother to him… But I'd never be as close to him as Mitch was. My eyes drifted to the pale, still boy, who hadn't moved or opened his eyes in 5 weeks. 5… weeks.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, causing Conner to look up at me. He wiped at his eyes, sniffling again.

"I-I c-came to see M-Mitch." He choked out.

"Right…" I mumbled with a sigh, leaning back in my chair. I made a face. Standing up and setting Conner down in the chair, I placed a hand next to Mitch, leaning over him to fix his hair, which someone messed up- _again_. Once it was fixed, I sat back down next to Conner, satisfied as he gave me a confused look.

"Did you just kiss him?" Conner questioned, sniffling once more.

"No!" I quickly assured, giving him a worried look. _Why would he think that?_

"Oh…" Conner sadly sighed. "Right, you're engaged to what's-her-face." He announced.

"Alanna." I corrected. He shrugged, not seeming to care much at all what her name was. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, Conner's head drifting to rest on my shoulder as we just sat there, staring at Mitch. I leaned down towards Conner's ear, my face in his hair. "Hey, why don't you come over, we could play some video games or something… Lachlan's still at the house too, he'll be moving in for a while." I informed him quietly. He weakly smiled, nodding. "Alright, let's go then… Or do you want to stay-?"

"No." Conner interrupted. "No, we can go now- if you're ready at least." Conner assured, standing. I stood too, looking back to Mitch and giving him a sad smile, though I knew he wouldn't catch it. He never even knows I'm here…

"Bye…" I mumbled, following Conner out. It was quiet, but it wasn't tense or anything. Just blissful. "Oh, we should tell your parents where you'll be." I determined, looking to him with a smile. He nodded, pulling out his phone and speed dialing their number. As we walked into the parking lot, he smiled softly.

"Hey mom… No, I don't need picked up, Jerome came by. We were planning on hanging out, is that alright…? Ok, awesome, I'll let him know… Ok… I love you too… Bye." He jumped into the passenger side of the car, shutting his door as I started the car up. "Mom said I can stay as long as you want me too, she doesn't mind. She also says hello." Conner determined, tapping his foot as he looked around, turning his attention to his window and trying to take in as much of the surrounding area as possible, before once again looking out the windshield. I just tried my best to focus on the road, not on him. I felt my grip start tensing around the steering wheel, swallowing the lump in my throat as I glanced around as well, pulling to a stop at a red light. I let my calves tense and relax over and over again, trying not to tap my foot- like Conner.

I saw Conner look behind us, his arm draped over the back of his seat. _Oh god_… I took a slow, quiet breath, exhaling in a sigh as the light turned green again. Once more, I focused my full attention on the road.

"Hey Jerome-?"

"Yeah Mitch?" I took in a sharp breath, nothing more being said as I just sat there, gritting my teeth and utterly tense as hell, Conner not replying. A heavy silence filled the small space between us, neither of us saying anything more as I continued to feel Conner's gaze boring into the side of my skull. I swallowed the lump that had reformed in my throat, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out again. "Sorry…" I mumbled, relaxing a bit.

"You're fine…" Conner mumbled, not sounding thrilled, though neither did I.

"Uh… What did you want to ask…?"

"… Do you think Mitch… Do you think he'll wake up?" As I stopped at another red light, I looked to Conner, giving him a confused look. He kept his gaze on his intertwined hands, his thumbs rubbing together gently as his hands rested in his lap calmly. I looked back to the road.

"I don't know."


	10. Chapter 9 - Past:

**(Have you been paying attention to the quotes? Can you spot them all? Good luck.)**

**Chapter 9 – Past:**

I could no longer feel my body. I just knew I was walking away. Walking to the small table ahead of me. Walking with nowhere to go. Nothing was present on the table. Nothing at all. I heard them all approaching from behind, but it didn't matter to me. I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to talk to them, wouldn't that be weird? They're basically me…

"Child, understand that talking to yourself is natural here. Talk to us." Michael requested. "It's normal." He continued. I nodded, not looking at them, focusing my vision on the table, though… I didn't want to touch it. It didn't look safe, as if a red tint were surrounding it. None of them seemed to notice. "What is your name child?"

"… Mitchell." I whispered. I shook my head. "Mitch." I added. _Was that my name? Did I have two names- no one called me Mitchell… Even if I knew that was my name- so what truly was my name?_

"Mitchell… Child, why do you seem so distant?"

"I… I don't feel… Complete." I admitted.

"You never do. It isn't expected… But may I ask you something…?"

"Yes…?" I quietly asked, turning my head to look at them all. It was only me. Only the people that so very much look like me in ways I hadn't realized until now. My height, my age, my eyes… Just little details that tend to mean so much all the same.

"Are you ready to learn your fate, child?" Michael asked. I looked back to the table, seeing nothing _but_ a table, though I'm sure there was supposed to be an object there- something to take me elsewhere. _Is this my object?_

"As in… learn who I truly am…? But what if… who I truly am… I don't accept…?" I questioned back, placing a hand on the table.

"Then… it's blissful… knowing that no one… will ever have to see you." Michael assured, two hands gently gripping my shoulders. The table didn't take me anywhere, nowhere at all. Thoughts began to consume my head, all different worries and fears. I withdrew my hand and took a step away from the table, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"And… what about… the sickened feeling… running in my veins…?" I continued, my stomach starting to turn and all of my limbs beginning to ache terribly.

"Well… You'll just have to deal with it." Michael stated. I looked back to him, Michael and the others giving me an apologetic look. I looked back to the table, placing both of my shaky hands onto it firmly, leaning over the table. Again, nothing happened. I was never taken elsewhere, never shown any images. Never did I begin to feel somewhat alive as I watched the pictures show their story.

"Why do I feel… so empty…? Empty in this place…?" I demanded, taking in a shaky breath and releasing it once more, tensing. _Why…?_

"Because child… You're truly alone now." My head snapped in the direction of them all, but they were all still there, every lifetime of Jerry's in the background. I looked to each and every one of them, turning back around and removing myself from the table. I placed my hands firmly on Michael's chest, but he was there. Physically there. I turned around again, my head beginning to swirl, breaking down. _Why did those few words mean so much- where have I heard them before?_

"When can I be free...? Free of this torment?" I demanded, running my hands through my hair and tugging it down tightly, stepping up onto the table, but still, nothing happened, making my blood both boil… and yet run cold.

"Dear child, you can't be." Michael argued, his voice raising just the slightest bit. I jumped down on the opposite side of the table, tense as I just swiftly began walking away. _He doesn't know that- I can be free if I want to be!_ Michael suddenly appeared from nowhere in front of me, causing me to bump into him; not moving again as he calmly stared down at me. He took my shoulders and gently turned me around, back to where everyone else remained still. He began taking me back to the table, and I let him. He left me on the other side of the table, returning to the side with all of my past lives and staring at me, blankly, gently. "… Child, say something." Michael requested.

"And if the words… Cannot form…?" I choked out, staring intently at the table. _Why does this table repulse me so much?_

"I don't understand-."

"If I can't- if I don't tell him what I wish to say- if the words cannot form in time?!" I shouted, meeting his gaze as I stepped away from the now warming table. He just stared at me, as did everyone else, as if… As if I'd asked the most idiotic question in the word. "Answer me." I ordered, gritting my teeth.

"… That was your fate, so understand that you can't change it." Michael explained, not moving. I looked away, taking a slow, deep breath and calming myself down, though the table was still warm, not cooling. I placed my right hand on the table, gliding my fingers over all the beautiful markings and naturally aged wood. It was silent for a while, no one speaking, everyone simply watching me. It was like I could… feel. I could sense the table under my fingers, though the rest of my body remained untouched and numb. The table's texture was bumpy, but smooth, all the while changing to match the different colorations in the dark, light wood. It was like I could hear it whispering sweet nothings to me, sweet- simple things that relaxed me, though I could barely understand them. "… What's his name?" Michael asked, all of them waiting. I didn't make any eye contact, just staring down at the table- the table that I still felt repulsed by.

"… Jerome." I declared, though I wasn't sure what I was saying. I took in a sharp breath, weird, blurred images flashing rapidly before me. I couldn't make anything out, all I knew was that it wasn't supposed to look like this- the table knew that too. The table turned so hot my hand felt icy, causing me to scream and withdraw it as my entire body started aching majorly, my chest feeling heavy and weighed down, my breathing hard to control as no one did anything to help me, staring at me horrified. All of Jerome's- whoever that is- past lives rushed over as well, pairing up with their lovers, seeming somewhat scared. I fell to my knees, catching the rest of my body with my left hand, slowing my breathing as my body started calming down. The images were white, fast paced, blurred, and distorted. I knew it meant something, I just wasn't sure what. I out held my right hand, staring at the raw, red palm that was supposedly fine a minute ago.

"You…" Michael started, causing me to look at them quickly. He didn't finish. My body started to feel as if it were being pricked over and over again by tiny pins and needles, sharply- painfully. I bit my lip and held back tears, my mind going blank as I just sat there.

"Why do I feel like this?" I cried. "What's going on- what's happening to me?!" I kept my eyes tightly closed, scared. No one said a word. I looked up to all of them, gasping and leaning away. All of them looked the same- nothing had changed really. Except now they all shared a red tint in their eyes, sad expressions on their faces. "What's going on?" I breathed out shakily, not able to contain my fear.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Jerry replied, clinging to Michael's arm.

"You don't understand what?!" I shouted, my throat closing up. Jerry stared down at the ground, a small smile coming to his face as he quietly hummed, closing his eyes and leaning against Michael.

"Jerome's a nice name." He stated, as if I hadn't said anything. More images flashed, though they still didn't make any sense at all. They just brought a major headache and refreshed the pain coursing in my veins.

"Tell me-… What's going on?!" I yelled, choking on my voice as I lifted my hand to my neck. I yanked it away, staring with horror as my hand started vaporizing. I looked back to all of them, a pleading look finding my face as they all just frowned, staring down at me. I let myself relax, my eyes half-lidded.

"If I were… to leave… how would I… come back?" I whispered, looking to Michael. Michael slowly shook his head no.

"You can't leave-."

"But if I were to-."

"You _can_'t leave." Michael sternly interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

"But-."

"YOU JUST DON'T LEAVE!" Michael bellowed. I didn't flinch away, just took the harshness of his voice and left it at that.

"But… If somehow… I was able to… How would I… return?" I whispered, more of my body vaporizing as I felt myself start to go limp.

"You don't leave." Michael calmly started, staring firmly and intently down at me. "How could you? After all… You're dead."


	11. Chapter 10 - Present:

**(REALLY short chapter! So sorry!)**

**Chapter 10 – Present:**

7 weeks. That's all there was to it. 7. Straight. Weeks. No sound. No movement. No acknowledgement of my existence from the still boy. So now I sob. I keep my face buried in his chest, one arm slipped underneath his back and locking with my other hand, my other arm draped over his stomach. Everyone's losing hope. Even Conner- even his family. It scares me…

Because his life is in _their_ hands. Not mine.

Mitch's heart monitor was fine, steady and paced as it always had been. Beeping in time with his heart. His hair was all fixed, his facial muscles the same as they always had been. His hair had a musky scent to it from being dirty for the longest time, and overall, I was staining his gown with tears. I just wanted to sob- I didn't want to leave anymore. If I left, who's to say he won't die? I don't want to take that chance anymore. 7 weeks and counting- 4 weeks is the usual amount of time for a coma to last! That is… if it isn't a vegetative state.

His heart monitor skipped a beat.

I took in a sharp breath, going silent as I listened to the beeping even out again, as if it'd never happened at all. I didn't breathe. _Why…?_ I took a slow breath as I sat up and grabbed a tissue, wiping at me eyes as more tears built in them. I just stared down at Mitch. I broke down again. _I can't do this Mitch_…

His heart monitor skipped again.

I lifted my head once more, staring intently at his face, worried. _Why?_ I gently placed my head back to his chest, staring at his face as my arms rested over top of him. I just stared, tears still rolling down my face, but now I was surely calming down. I turned my head the other direction, staring down towards his feet as I closed my eyes, listening to his heart. I could feel his chest just barely rising and falling with each breath, his breathing slow and steady. Even if he never woke up, as long as he was here… here, just breathing… that would be enough for me… My own heart began to time itself with his, in a rhythm of a sort. They weren't in sync, but it was like a little melody in a way. The heart monitor and Mitch in sync, while I was there keeping a pace in the background. Just little things… just the little things are what calm me nowadays- things like this. That's all I need. Once again his heart monitor skipped a beat, but now it was like those little irregularities you hear in a song. The things that artists randomly throw in there to keep someone's attention. I sighed softly, comfortable.

_Then_, from _nowhere_, a weight was pressed to my head, beginning to softly stroke and smooth out my hair, whatever it was: _moving_. It felt like a hand.

"What are you _doing?_" I slowly pulled up, looking back to the sleepy, now confused looking face as Mitch- _Mitch_\- yawned. I just stared, dumbstruck with the last of my tears falling from my chin. "_Jay-rome…_ What're you _doing?_" He continued, his voice slurred as he closed his eyes and got comfortable again, turning to lie on his side, still facing me. He didn't move after that. Neither did I. I just decided to sit there for the longest time, unsure of what to do. Eventually, I decided to slowly reached out and poke Mitch's right cheek. His eyes fluttered open, as if he hadn't woken up, and a lazily smile spread across his face, half asleep. "_Jay-rome_… what're you _doing?_" He giggled giddily, turning the other way and once more, not moving. So again, I sat there, just completely blown away by the fact that _Mitch_ moved. Not only moved, but _spoke_. After _7… weeks_.

I quickly pressed the call nurse button, standing and gently grabbing Mitch's shoulders, causing him to look up at me, seeming dazed as he lied on his back, smiling lazily again, his eyes only halfway open as he softly hummed. I smiled, more tears starting to form as he reached up, poking my lips repeatedly and causing me to softly chuckle, taking his hand and stopping him. A nurse soon showed up, quickly coming over to the other side of the bed.

"He woke up." I choked out- stating the obvious.


	12. Chapter 11 - Present:

**Chapter 11 – Present:**

After different tests and examinations, as well as spending about a week with my family in their hotel, I was finally going home. The Florida house looked so different, and yet it hadn't changed at all. I wasn't allowed to drive yet, though I felt fine and could walk just like I did before the accident. But hey, better safe than sorry, right?

As I got out of the car, getting my stuff from the backseat and waving my parents off, the front door was flung open, Jerome, Ryan, and Lachlan bursting out and rushing towards me. I was soon engulfed by friendly hugs as comments came from here and there, though I couldn't really focus much on it. I just hugged back, or, hugged _Jerome_ back.

"Guys, can't I walk through the door?" I quietly asked, not letting go of Jerome. My bags were slipped from my hands, Lachlan and Ryan taking them inside and to my room. I yawned, placing my face into Jerome's mop of hair and inhaling deeply. I can't remember much of what happened and all I know is what my family told me. A car crash and whatnot. I don't remember much of what happened when I woke up either, or the in-between. I just know I had a really weird dream… and I don't think it was a dream at all. But I'd never tell anyone that. In fact, I _know_ it wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been…

"Mitch…?"

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"Why are we still hugging?" Jerome asked, still whispering.

"Because we can." At that, Jerome laughed merrily, breaking away from the hug and smiling up at me. I returned the gesture, smiling back. We went inside, Jerome shutting the door as I looked around, a yawn finding my lips once again, though I didn't feel tired, just weary.

"Do you want to take a nap? We're working on dinner; we can wake you up when we're done cooking." Jerome suggested.

"Sure, why not…" I mumbled, rubbing at my eyes as I made my way back to my room, Lachlan and Ryan passing by and smiling at me. I smiled back, going into my room and shutting the door. I didn't even bother to strip of my clothes, just crawled into my bed, getting comfortable. As I reached over the bedside table to turn off my lamp, I paused, seeing the small journal for the first time. Sitting back up, I slipped it into my hands, opening it up as I let it rest in my lap.

_Doctors think you should keep a journal._

_3 Jerome_

I smiled, opening to the next blank page and going to my desk. I grabbed a pencil, laying back down as I started writing. It was like; I could express myself on the pages. I could talk to myself. Talk to the book that wouldn't respond back. I ended up writing for about 5 minutes about pointless, random shit that happened to be on my mind, but by then grew wearier than I already was. I dismissed myself within the journal entry, as if the journal were living, and set it aside. I pulled the covers up to my shoulders, falling asleep quickly.

I felt someone gently shaking me, groaning as I fluttered my eyes. I smiled lazily as a slightly blurred Jerome chuckled down at me.

"Have a nice nap?" He quietly asked as I sat up, stretching.

"Yeah…" I mumbled, standing up and following him out of my room. Lachlan and Ryan were already at the table, waiting for us. I sat down, all of them starting to talk and trying to get me into the conversation as much as possible, catching me up in a way. I was glad to talk; it'd distract me from the food. I didn't touch the food even once as we all went on about this and that, everyone else nearly finished as Jerome glanced to me. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Mitch, eat." He basically ordered. I blinked, surprised as Lachlan and Ryan looked to me, confusion written on their faces.

"Oh… uh, I'm not really hungry." I informed him with a weak smile. He huffed.

"Mitch, you're underweight, you need to eat." Jerome insisted.

"I'm not hungry-."

"Bullshit Mitch, just eat." Jerome snapped with a pleading look on his face. I just stared at him, eventually picking up my fork and slowly beginning to eat. "Thank you." Jerome added. "Now, what were we talking about?" I didn't want to speak, staying dead silent the rest of the meal. _Why would Jerome snap like that? Why at me? I'm not hungry- how could I be underweight…? I'm fat- I'm not hungry… _I ate. Jerome would give me looks if I made a move to stop eating again. I tried my best to ignore the looks and put the fork back down, but anytime I _did_ put it down and stopped eating; Jerome just called me out on it again. Eventually, I finished my plate, everyone else having been done for a while now. Jerome smiled sweetly at me, to which I didn't return, frowning slightly. "What's wrong?" Jerome questioned, tilting his head, his smile faltering for a split second.

"Nothing." I quickly assured, smiling. He didn't seem convinced, but remained smiling and nodded slightly. "I'm tired though, I think I'm going to go to bed." I yawned, Jerome nodding as they all said goodnight.

~Jerome~

"Oi, what was all that about?" Lachlan softly demanded after Mitch disappeared upstairs, lightly smacking my shoulder.

"Yeah, Mitch doesn't have to eat if he doesn't want too." Ryan added. I huffed.

"He's gaining weight whether he likes it or not- he _needs_ too." I argued. "You heard what the doctor said- he's 21, somewhere around six feet tall, and weighs 87 pounds- that isn't healthy!"

"Yeah, but forcing him to eat won't help him Jerome, that might just make him upset." Lachlan snapped. "From all the cuts they found on his chest and the razor blades that we found in his room, he very well could be depressed-."

"And did you even see the way he started acting after you forced him to eat? Dude, he went dead silent!" Ryan continued. I sighed, rubbing my temple.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok?" I mumbled, closing my eyes. "I just want him to be Mitch again. Hell, I grew up with him and he never had problems with how much he weighed, he's never been depressed before _now_ apparently, so when did all of this start and _why_?!" I demanded, placing my hands on the table.

"Boys, look, it doesn't matter what caused it or when it started, all-."

"Shut up." I stood, making my way over to the archway that leads to the hallway and living room.

"Excuse-?"

"_Shush!_" I hurriedly whispered. Lachlan gave me a dumbfounded look, as did Ryan, but I motioned them up and pointed to the hallway. I could hear him from here. _Vomiting_. None of us said anything, just listened. I leaned on the wall, covering my face with my hands. Lachlan ran a hand through his hair while Ryan crossed his arms, all of us glancing to each other. I hurried down the hallway, stopping by Mitch's door and knocking on it loudly and repeatedly, causing his room to fall dead silent. "Mitch, I know you're awake!" I informed him. "Please open the door!" Eventually, the door slowly cracked open, Mitch standing behind it, not letting me in the room and barely opening the door at all, only his right eye visible through the crack.

"Yes…?" He murmured.

"Why were you vomiting?" I demanded. His expression didn't change, and he made no move to answer me. I sighed. "Mitch, why? I just want to know _why_."

"… I wasn't feeling good." He mumbled so quietly I barely heard him. After that he just shut the door on me and locked it, not waiting for my response. I huffed.

"Bullshit…" I stated under my breath, going back into the living room, where Ryan and Lachlan were. They looked to me. "_He wasn't feeling good_." I informed them with a sarcastic tone, sitting down with a thud. They rolled their eyes.

"Maybe he wasn't." Ryan argued.

"BULLSHIT- he's perfectly fine!" I yelled.

"Don't talk so loudly!" Lachlan reminded quietly. "And hey, we don't know how he's feeling; all we know is that if we _don't_ handle this _carefully_, we'll drive him _away_. Is that what you want?" Lachlan slowly added. They were both staring at me.

"Why are you looking at me?" I demanded, offended. They didn't respond, still staring at me. I sighed, looking away as I crossed my arms over my chest. "No, I don't want to drive him away…" I murmured.

"Then start acting _normally_." Lachlan ordered, flipping through the many different TV channels. "_Meaning_, stop acting like an overprotective bacca." Ryan snickered, but I didn't find what Lachlan said amusing in any way, shape, or form. _Maybe I'd rather be an overprotective bacca then act like I don't know what he's doing to himself_...

~Mitch~

The next few days weren't very eventful. Ryan left to go back home, Lachlan acted like he normally did, and Jerome… Didn't leave my side. He was _nearly_ literally, stuck to me like glue. Anywhere I went, Jerome was nearby. After every meal, which he _demanded_ with a _sweet_ tone that I consume, he would sit me down and watch TV with me. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere else until the food had digested… or… until it was to the point I couldn't vomit it back up again at least. He was driving me _insane_. But…

"What are we watching again?" I calmly asked with a faint smile on my lips, snuggling closer to him.

"Castle, we started watching it while you were in the hospital." Jerome informed me, most likely for the tenth time today. I hummed softly, nodding.

"Right…" Jerome was being obsessive with me. I wasn't allowed to leave the house without his knowing of it, and he _insisted_ on always coming with me. Even if I was just taking a walk around the block. It was almost as if he didn't trust me being by myself. Sometimes he'd even sit with me until I fell asleep, depending on how troublesome the day had been. Sometimes he's too tired too. He was acting like a nagging old fool and treating me like a child. But honestly…

It was comforting. And annoying at certain times. He won't tell me why my closet had been "rearranged". It was a mess and I _swear_ it was clean before the accident. My closet was _always_ organized. He won't tell me why, neither will Lachlan. Every night, I made a new entry in my journal, as the doctor had requested. Jerome asked one time if I'd seen the journal. I smiled and nodded. He smiled back and left it at that, no more questions, no strings attached. The journal entries varied in length, but tended to be about 5 front and back pages, more or less at times, but still. I'd question my journal as if it were a real person, always satisfied with the fact I received no answer in return. I'd ask questions I'd never ask any of my friends.

_Why does Jerome love Alanna? Why won't they tell me why my closet was rearranged? What happened to all of my blades?_

General things of that nature. I haven't posted any videos on my channel yet. Jerome's posted a few, but Lachlan's been on track and on time with everything so far, video's coming out every day as usual. I didn't really feel like recording. Jerome wanted to spend every second with me- I don't know why, but I'm not the fool to question it, so that's why he's been falling behind on his videos slightly. Lachlan is always asking me if I want to record with him. I just shrug, not sure. Honestly, I'd rather just sit here more than anything; make the most of my time with Jerome while he wants to hold me close like this.

The sound of the front door opening rang throughout the quiet house, Jerome and I both looking in its direction as an all too familiar voice called out to us all. I felt my heart shatter. Jerome smiled brightly, getting up, leaving me, and embracing his fiancé, kissing her passionately. My stomach started turning, my body aching as nausea swept over me.

"I'm so glad you're back!" Jerome cooed, Lachlan upstairs, recording and currently unaware of Alanna's return. I swallowed the lump in my throat, seeing her look to me and smile brightly, hurrying over.

"Mitch- I'm so glad you're ok!" She stated, delighted. I didn't respond, just forced myself to smile at her, hugging back slightly. She pulled away, smiling happily down at me. "And as always, you can _always_ talk to me, just ask, ok?" I nodded, not speaking. She turned back to Jerome, kissing him again before they both sat down with me. Alanna between us. She always was. Always will be…

"I, uh…" I cleared my throat. "I'm going to go take a nap." I announced, faking a yawn. Jerome gave me a slightly confused look, but nodded, concern in his eyes.

"Have a nice nap, sweet dreams!" Alanna called as I made my way to my room. Opening the door, I faintly caught that Alanna had decided to make us all lunch, shutting my door quietly as I let a shaky breath escape my lips. Leaning back against the door, I felt my throat close up and my eyes begin to water, my vision blurring as I brought a hand to my left eye, as if it'd stop the tears from rolling of my cheeks. It didn't. I slid down the door, pulled my knees to my chest, and just quietly cried pointlessly. Funny, I knew it'd happen sooner or later. But then there was always that sliver of hope that Alanna'd get hit by a bus. Or shot in the head. Or pushed off a bridge. Or eaten by wolves. Or hunted down by assassins. Or… _I should stop_.

I got up, pounced onto my bed, grabbed my journal, and just started to write. To pour out my heart, but at the same time not being too specific about things. I didn't use anyone's name, just the general idea of it. Let's just say I'm paranoid someone will read it. I don't know _why_, I just… After deciding I'd wrote enough about my feels, about my heart and mind, I set my journal aside, the tears having dried, staining my face and spotting the pages. I slipped out of my bed, going to my bathroom and opening up the medical cabinet. I just stared. _Where'd all of my pills go…?_


	13. Chapter 12 - Present:

**Chapter 12 – Present:**

Lachlan managed to convince me to record, but Mitch refused, as he usually did. I didn't want to leave him alone like this, but he's sleeping, he'll be fine. Mitch wouldn't come out for lunch, even though I woke him up, but he just went right back to sleep and avoided eye contact. I didn't question it, just hesitantly left him to his slumber.

By now, it's nearly dinner, and Mitch hasn't left his room ever since this morning. No matter how much I tried staying focused on our recording session, my mind just continued wandering back to Mitch.

"Hang on; I'm going to check up on Mitch." I declared once more, pulling off my headphones before hearing the response. I'm sure Lachlan was going to kill me again, that's what he did the last time, or, aka, the fifth time. This would be the sixth time I've done this. I cracked Mitch's door open, seeing he was still lied down in bed, in the _same_ spot as last time. In the _same_ position. Unmoved, despite the fact he tended to roll around in his sleep. I hurriedly walked over, leaning over him. He turned to look up at me, surprised. I sighed.

"Yes?" Mitch whispered.

"Nothing, just checking up on you." I assured happily. He nodded slightly, looking away again and staring off into space, his face seemingly blank, meaning he was either lost in thought or just wanted me to go away. I swallowed the lump in my throat, taking a slight step back. "Bye." I declared, leaving and shutting his door behind me. I returned to my room. "LACHLAN, WHY?!" I screamed, earning a laugh from both him and Preston. "LACHLAN!"

A few hours later, a check up on Mitch in between that time, our recording for the day was finished and rendering. I leaned back, sipping my mug of coffee as I sighed, watching. A knock at my door caught my attention for a split second, Lachlan entering as I looked back to my computer.

"Dinner's ready Jerome." He informed me with a slight chuckle. I got up hastily, following him downstairs as I saw Alanna setting the table.

"Oh, I'll go get Mitch-."

"Don't, he said he wasn't feeling good, the poor guy." Alanna informed me. I glanced at Lachlan, but he shook his head no slightly, sitting down. I sat down as well, not wanting too, but I did. _I have been a bit obsessive, haven't I?_ We all talked, Alanna discussing the great time she had with her family and old friends, Lachlan and I adding comments here and there, until of course heavy footsteps rushed down the stairs, Mitch soon appearing. I smiled.

"You hungry?" I asked, looking back to my food and continuing to eat. I received no reply, but heard the cabinets being sifted through rather loudly, obnoxiously too. I looked back to him, confused. When he couldn't find whatever he was looking for, he moved onto the next set of cabinets. I took another bite of food. Mitch eventually pulled out a rather large bottle of Tylenol. I nearly choked, rushing to my feet and quickly beginning to interfere, Alanna confused and Lachlan not saying anything.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mitch demanded.

"What are you doing?!" I snapped, staring firmly at him. I looked to his hand, counting quickly. "7 pills when you only need 3 at most- why? What's wrong?" I firmly questioned, taking the bottle from him and not breaking eye contact. He glanced to his hand.

"_Sorry_, when you're suddenly being grabbed you tend to add a few more than necessary." He answered, seeming majorly upset.

"Why do you need them?" I questioned again.

"I have a headache." He informed me bitterly, leaving the extra 4 pills on the counter and going to the fridge. He grabbed a soda and left the room. I went red, now realizing how much of a fool I must look like. Slowly, I put away the extra pills, put the bottle back where it went, and returned to the table, where an annoyed looking Lachlan sat along with a confused Alanna.

"Jerome, what was that about?" Alanna asked.

"I don't know…" I mumbled, covering my face.

~Mitch~

Blurred, dark images flashed before my eyes, my body aching all over as pale, corpse like bodies stood there in each of the quick to come, gone in an instant images. Glowing, tinted red light and angry energy surrounding each image as a few flashed white. My heart raced and my mind broke down, my skin heating up and the taste of iron filling my mouth. Screams. Desperation. Pleading. Sobbing. Pain. I could hear and feel all of these things as each of them coursed in my veins. It felt as though I couldn't do a thing.

_Bang._

A bullet through the heart and I could care less about myself.

_Bang_.

A bullet between the eyes, yet for years I'd been long gone.

_Bang_.

Into my core, where for an eternity, I'd been dead to the world.

_Bang_.

I shot up, sweat drenching my skin as my breathing erupted into labored gasps and painful intakes of air. I brought a hand to my pounding heart, feeling it try and break free of my chest. The familiar bedspread lay over my legs as I glance around, seeing that everything was… normal. Yet, not, all the same.

Swinging my waking, still numb legs off of my bed, I stood, shirtless as I silently left my room. _I hate nightmares_. I crept down the hall, away from the living room, then up the stairs and into the floor above. I passed by Lachlan's room, heading straight for Jerome's. And right as I was to knock and awake him from his slumber, a thought made itself clear in my mind. Backing away slowly, tears beginning to build in my eyes, I turned and went back downstairs, the salty liquid grazing my softened skin and wetting my lips. _Alanna_.

Entering the kitchen, I pulled a soda from the fridge, the beverage cold and icy, chilling my bones as I pulled the Tylenol from the cabinet, glancing to the time. _5:30am_. I gave myself 3 pills, put the bottle back, and consumed them, leaning against the wall and relaxing. My mind and body both knew the other pills were still in my system, but I didn't care. _6_. I stood up straight again, walking into the living room and setting my drink down on the coffee table, relaxing into the soft, yet firm cushions of the couch and lying down. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep again.

Rolling over as the hand continued to lightly shake me; I fluttered my eyes open with a yawn, looking over my shoulder at the smiling Jerome standing above me. I didn't smile back. His smile faltered a bit, a lump beginning to form in his throat.

"Breakfast." He declared, walking off. I sat up and stretched, grabbing my soda and finishing it off. My head was still throbbing, my body aching terrible. As I walked into the kitchen, I glanced at the time. _9am_.

"Hey, Mitch is up!" Lachlan teased as he passed me. I tossed my empty soda can into the trash, Alanna handing me a glass of orange juice as she finished setting the table, the plates all made and everyone starting to sit down and eat. I pulled the Tylenol bottle out, Jerome boring holes into the back of my soul as I pulled out 3 and consumed them. _9_.

"Mitch, why were you on the couch?" Jerome cautiously asked, but didn't get up, a chair shifting, scrapping against the tiled floor.

"I had a nightmare." I groggily stated, putting the bottle back.

"… How many pills have you had in the last 24 hours?" Jerome demanded.

_9_.

"6." I assured. "The bottle says no more than 6 in the course of 24 hours." Jerome sighed, smiling at me as I sat down, picking up my fork and pushing my food around.

"Hey, did you know that even slightly overdosing on Tylenol everyday for about a week or so is more of a killer than one large overdose of Tylenol? Fun fact I learned when I was younger." Alanna stated. Jerome and Lachlan just stared at her, as if she'd said something terrible wrong, terror written in their eyes as they looked at each other, silently communicating without uttering a single word. _They aren't telling me something_. I shifted my vision back down to my plate, my heart throbbing.

"I know." I mumbled, taking a small bite of food.


	14. Chapter 13 - Present:

**Chapter 13 – Present:**

I continued to write in my journal, talking about how I overdosed. I felt fine though, I really did. Well, my head still hurts, but… I could hear Jerome and Lachlan having a blast without me, with whatever they were doing this time. I don't know where Alanna went, I just know she left. I closed my journal and left it on the floor, curled up in the corner of my room as I quietly cried. _What did they do with my blades?_ My chest felt heavy and my heart was cold, breaking- shattering into pieces. I can feel it breaking in my chest. I'll never find all the pieces again… A light knock at my door made my stomach turn.

"Hey, Mitch? I want you to record with us. It isn't Minecraft or anything, have you ever heard of the whisper challenge?" Jerome asked.

"Y-yeah…" I called back.

"You want to try it with us? It'll be fun- please?" Jerome pleaded. I grabbed a tissue, wiping away the clear tracks on my face, and then hurrying to greet him at my door. I didn't smile, seeming to cause him discomfort, but he dragged me into the living room nonetheless, Lachlan already waiting for us. And for the next 10 minutes, we all played the whisper challenge. Lachlan was the first with the headphones, then Jerome went, and then it was my turn. They'd give me things I'd expect, like 'Betty' or 'hunger games', but then they'd also throw in random words too, like different objects or food items. It wasn't hard; I was good at reading lips. My vision was focused on Jerome's soft, pink, delicate lips as they formed words, his tongue rolling like silk and his smile never fading.

"Spaghetti." Jerome slowly stated. I didn't answer, just kept staring at his lips, my mind beginning to wander. "Spaghetti." Jerome repeated. I looked up, meeting his gaze. _Why not…?_

"I love you." I slowly replied. Jerome and Lachlan exchanged humored glances, but Jerome looked back to me, chuckling.

"Spaghetti." He stated for the third time.

"I love you." I repeated. He laughed, as did Lachlan. Leaned forward, he pulled the headphones off of my head, still chuckling.

"Spaghetti." He informed me. I didn't reply, just looked away. _Of course you'd take me as a fool_. Lachlan glanced between us, staring at me for a bit longer than I felt comfortable with, but he looked away as I glanced back at him. Lachlan smiled brightly, ending the video. "Hey, Mitch, you want to take a walk?" Jerome asked as he stood, stretching. I smiled brightly, nodding eagerly as I bounced to my feet. _Just us_… Jerome smiled, both of us saying bye to Lachlan as we started for the front door. My heart was pounding, but now, not in a bad way. I felt anxious- excited. I couldn't stop smiling.

The mid-morning air of Florida's finest weather yet consumed our air-conditioned skin, Jerome letting out a sigh as I did nothing. I didn't mind, though the temperature of the brisk morning or evening air was always nicer than the moist, sticky temperature this time of day. The rushing cars and bustling chatter of on goers quickly filled our heads, the faint, singing birds calling to each other. I already knew we were going to the park. Jerome loved going to the park this time of day, he had ever since he was young. The sun burned intensely down upon us, not a cloud in the clear, vast, pale blue sky. A slight breeze whipped our hair around as we crossed the still, dead seeming street, the light red and most of the cars waiting on us, seeing as we were mixed in with a large crowd of people that were also crossing the street. And about 5 or so minutes later, I found we were in the quiet, peaceful environment of the park, heading deep into the shaded forest.

We walked along a lakeside path, ducks swimming and squirrels racing. Jerome nudged me, motioning to a bench. We went over to it and sat down, a breeze sweeping our hair to the right as I sighed. _Just simple things_… I leaned against Jerome, watching the clumsy little ducklings as they swam in a line behind their mother, or sat on land with their families, no one here to disturb them. The quiet song of the birds mixed with the other sounds of nature, and it was almost like I could hear the song they played. Hear the quiet whispers of Mother Nature.

"Why'd you want to come out today…?" I whispered, snuggling up to Jerome's side.

"Oh, uh, Alanna wanted-." I didn't hear the rest of what he said as Mother Nature's music screeched to a halt and my newly, somewhat fixed heart once again broke to pieces, thumping painfully hard in my chest. I sat up straight again, scooting away from him as Jerome gave me a confused look.

"_Oh_." I whispered a little colder than I meant too, tears brimming in my hidden eyes.

"Mitch…?" Jerome questioned. "What's wrong-?"

"Allergies, I'm going home, have fun." I muttered, getting up and walking off briskly.

"Wait a minute- Mitch!" Jerome called, his thudding footsteps rushing after me. I covered my left eye with my left hand, tears tracing my right cheek as I bit my bottom lip. I turned a sharp corner and dashed off into the forest, rushing off a bit before ducking underneath a grove of tree roots. I heard Jerome slowly follow me into the forest, shouting my name loudly, brush being pushed around and his voice carrying every which way. I could hear the crunching of nearby dry, dead leaves, Jerome's foot appearing outside the "entrance" to my little grove. And soon, I found him ducking under as well, staring at me from his position outside the grove of tree roots. "Mitch." Jerome started. "What's wrong?" He demanded.

"I'm f-fine." I choked out. _Why…?_

"No, you aren't." _Stop torturing me…_

"I'm fine!" I snapped, sniffling as I wiped my eyes off with my sleeves.

"Mitch, you aren't!" Jerome bitterly snapped back, sliding underneath the entrance and sitting down in front of it. "So tell me _why_! Please!" Jerome took my hands and gave them light squeezes, a pleading look in his eyes and written all over his face. I just sat there shaking, vision blurry as I quietly cried. "Don't cry…" Jerome hushed, releasing my hands and cupping my cheeks, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. I brought my right hand to my right cheek, gently holding his hand there as I stared at him, not in the eye, but to his lips. And I leaned forward. Jerome directed my head to his shoulder and hugged me tightly. I broke down sobbing. _Why does the universe hate me?_ "It's ok…" Jerome quietly assured.

"No!" I cried out. "No- it'll never be _ok_ Jerome- y-you don't understand!" He held me tighter, moving my head to his chest and placing his head overtop mine. "Y-you don't understand how hard I w-work for you- or how hard I try and you never fucking notice! You- you act like everything is ok- and- and w-whenever Alanna's around you n-never spend t-time with me!"

"Mitch, I do notice how hard you work for me." Jerome quietly mumbled. I pulled away, my hands on his chest as I stared into his shaded eyes. He smiled.

"Y-you do…?" I whispered, supporting all of my weight against his firm chest. He chuckled.

"Of course I do. You've been eating for me, and haven't been harming yourself." I just stared at him, dumbstruck. "Plus you recorded a video with us today. I know you're doing your best Mitch, you don't _ever_ have to prove that to me." Jerome insisted, placing his hands on my shoulders. I glared at him, tears still streaking my face. He frowned, confused. I shoved him away, wiping at my eyes and not looking at his surprised form. "Mitch-."

"Just move, god damn it." I snapped harshly. He gave me a confused look, but slowly backed out the entrance, allowing me to get out and dust myself off. He placed a hand on my shoulder, but I just, _once again_, shoved him away.

"Mitch-."

"No- don't touch me." I snapped, starting to quickly walk away, out of the forest.

"Mitch-!"

"No- you didn't understand a word I just said!" _I love you_.

"Yes I did-!"

"NO JEROME! YOU DIDN'T- BECAUSE I'M NOT TRYING TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU DAMN IT- NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!" I heard Jerome's footsteps slow to a stop as I continued to hurriedly walk off, pulling out my phone and speed dialing Lachlan's number, tears beginning to once again streak my face. He picked up rather quickly.

"What's up Mitch?"

"Can you pick me up from the park please?" I whispered, sniffling.

"Are you ok? Is Jerome with you?"

"No, the only reason he came was because of Alanna." I choked out.

"Oh… Ok, where are you?"

"The park."

"No no no, what part of the park?" He corrected.

"Oh, uh… I'll head to the front and meet you there." I assured.

"Ok, I'll see you then, bye."

"Bye…"


	15. Chapter 14 - Present:

**(Partial Merome...? I needed a filler, honestly...)**

**Chapter 14 – Present:**

When I got home, Lachlan was watching TV, and looked to me. His stare was firm, symbolizing something was wrong. I swallowed the lump in my throat, watching as he muted the TV without breaking eye contact.

"He told me everything." Lachlan calmly stated, though the look he was giving me showed he felt anything _but_ calm. "What kind of person drags their depressed best friend on a date and makes them a third wheel?!" He screamed, standing up. I gave him a confused look.

"Date…?" I asked.

"Yes Jerome, Mitch told me you went to the park because of Alanna- was she meeting you there- was she there when you got there?" He questioned.

"No, wait a minute, Alanna suggested that fresh air was good for Mitch and that we should go take a walk or something, that's it, it wasn't a date." I explained.

"Well then Mitch _obviously_ didn't hear it that way, it _really_ hurt him Jerome." Lachlan calmly stated. "He thought it was a date and, in case you haven't noticed, he doesn't like Alanna very much nowadays. I mean, _seriously_, anytime she's over he's locked in his room!"

"She's my fiancée, does he expect her not to come over?!" I demanded, my heart feeling heavy. _Mitch was so happy when he found out the news, why doesn't he like Alanna?_

"Look, I don't know what his problem is, that's just what he told me, alright? He doesn't like Alanna very much and he hates how you spend all your time with her and ignore him like he means nothing. That's how he feels. Period. It's _your_ problem, so _you_ need to deal with it. I'm making lunch." Lachlan declared, walking off and entering the kitchen. _I don't ignore him like he's trash…_ I slowly made my way down the hallway, stopping in front of his bedroom door and silently pressing my ear to the wood. I could hear him sniffling, but not much more than that. I gave a quiet knock, receiving no reply. I decided to go in anyway.

Carefully opening the door, I saw Mitch's back was too me. He was underneath his comforter and curled up in a ball. I quietly shut the door, walking over to his bedside and sitting down next to him. I didn't say anything or make a move to touch him. I simply sat there, my heart hurting and my breathing painful. I placed my legs up on the bed, turning to lie on my side as I wrapped my arms around where his waist should have been, pulling him into me and hugging him gently. He turned over and curled into me, snuggling closer as he once again sniffled, hidden from my view by the comforter.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered.

~Mitch~

Jerome and I laid there for a while, my arms sandwiched between us, our legs intertwined and our bodies melted together. My breathing was light and airy, my heart pounding. I inhaled a shaky breath, inconspicuously pressing myself closer to him. _Yeah, that didn't work_. Jerome propped himself up, giving me a confused look, the comforter partially falling away. I lifted myself up just a bit, pressing my body back to his, our chests pressed together as our lips hovered barely an inch apart.

"Mitch…?" Jerome breathed, not seeming scared. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his as we just stayed there, our lips not moving, just pressed together. Still, it sent jolts through my spine. Jerome shifted, not pulling away, but rather bringing his hands to my waist, both of us sitting up fully, Jerome pulling me closer. We parted our lips, our foreheads pressed together as we stared into each other's eyes. Our lips crashed like two speeding cars, my hands cupping Jerome's cheeks as Jerome roughly gripped my hips, the heat between us beginning to grow. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his hands begin to roam my sides, eventually taking the rim of my shirt and breaking the kiss, tugging my shirt off as I blushed. He stared at my chest, at the scars. Slowly removing myself from him, I looked away, embarrassed.

"Stop staring at me like that." I requested quietly.

"You're beautiful, Mitch." Jerome huskily whispered in my right ear, a shudder racking my body. His mouth connected to my neck as he leaned over my back, biting and sucking on my pale flesh as a moan escaped my lips. Jerome's hands lingered on my bare sides, gently caressing them. I shivered under his light touch, Jerome's teeth sharply grazing my skin as he made his way down to my collarbone.

"Jerome…" I breathed, pleasure racking my body. Jerome flipped me over, my head nearly hanging off the foot of the bed as he brought himself closer. I gasped as he found my sweet spot, moaning louder as I moved my hands to the rim of his shirt. I slipped my hands underneath the fabric that concealed his gorgeous body, wrapping my arms around his back as Jerome disconnected his mouth from me, quickly removing his own shirt. Jerome laid me back; examining my chest was a sad glint in his eyes, faintly frowning. I bit my bottom lip, looking away. And suddenly, sparks flew over my chest, another gasp escaping my lips as I looked back to Jerome. One by one, he kissed each scar, each cut, and each bruise. Each kiss sending sparks throughout my chest. I closed my eyes and relaxed, Jerome's hands firmly planted on either side of me, our legs once more tangled together.

"I love you…" Jerome hummed. He sat me up and pulled me closer, brushing the loose strands of hair from my face and staring lovingly down at me. "No matter how much you harm yourself, no matter what steps between us, I'll love you… I always will, and I always have…" He mumbled, his lips hovering ever so close, grazing my own lips. "And I'll never stop."

I fluttered my eyes open, my eye lids heavy. It was bright outside my window, blurring my vision as my head pounded. My body was warm, but not in the way in should have been. It was quiet besides the turning of pages, my back to the sound and my body fully clothed. _Was that… a dream?_ My heart began to throb, my mind repeating the words of comfort that Jerome had softly spoken to me. _I love you too_… My door opened, causing me to lightly flinch, but no one noticed.

"Oi, lunch is ready." There was no reply. "Jerome?" Lachlan continued.

"Mitch overdose on Tylenol…" Jerome's soft voice muttered.

"What-?"

"He didn't mean too…" Jerome quickly added. "He was just in pain…"

"Oh… Should we wake Mitch up for lunch?"

"Don't, he fell asleep, I'm sure he needs the rest." Jerome determined as he stood, walking up to me. He placed what I take to be my journal down on the bedside table, then whispered goodbye as he left, shutting the door and consuming me in silence. _It was a dream_…

~Jerome~

Lunch was quiet, and we didn't talk much, just ate. By the time we finished, Alanna was back from work. She hurried over as I smiled, hugging me as she planted a sweet kiss firmly on my lips. Lachlan glanced at us, but didn't bother watching, placing the plates in the dishwasher. I heard footsteps make their way down the stairs, releasing Alanna as she went to make herself a plate from what was leftover of lunch, Mitch soon appearing and doing the same. _Smiling_. He was _smiling_.

"Oh, hey Alanna." Mitch started. Alanna smile.

"Hey Mitch, you feeling better?"

"_Much_ better, how was… wherever you were?" Alanna laughed, both of them sitting down as I gave Lachlan a confused look, something not feeling right. _Mitch, making a full plate and eating it voluntarily…?_

"I was at work; it was fine, nothing much happened though."

"Yeah, work _sucks_ when it isn't YouTube." Once more, Alanna laughed. _Why is he so happy…?_ I smiled, sitting down with them as Lachlan did the same, all of us having a decent conversation. And for once, everything felt… _Normal_ again. It would never be _normal_ normal, but still, it was… Normal, in a sense. Just plain old Mitch back. As Mitch and Alanna finished their meals, Mitch dismissed us all, wrapping an arm around Lachlan and I and dragging us back towards our rooms.

"Boys, we're doing some recording today." Mitch declared.

"Oi, let's call up everyone." Lachlan suggested, both of us rushing upstairs.

"Well hurry up!" Mitch called back, teasing. I got to my studio, going inside, shutting the door, and quickly getting onto Skype as I sat down. I texted the boys, as Lachlan was probably doing as well, Preston and Rob both already online, but Ryan and Vikk, not. Ryan and Vikk soon got on, and Mitch was nearly instantly calling us all. Everyone's faces appeared, the others looking partially confused, but smiling happily nonetheless. Mitch was just _all_ smiles.

"Hey, I'm making you record with me!" Mitch announced with a happy tone, clapping his hands together.

"Ok…?" Preston laughed. "What're we doing?"

"Anything!" Mitch decided. "You guys pick, we can record as long as we want because I _really_ need to catch up on my recordings!" We all glanced to each other, all of us nodding and beginning to pick out some games from the Nexus to play.


	16. Chapter 15 - Present:

**Chapter 15 – Present:**

We played mini games and parkour maps for most of the afternoon. We all had a blast and were nearly done with our final parkour map of the day. The recording session had already gone on for 8 hours.

"Well boys, I think we should wrap this up here, thank you all for watching-!" Mitch began. After everyone said their outros, we all stopped recording and went back to the Skype call, staring at each other for a while.

"I'm going to edit this and get it ready for upload tomorrow." Mitch declared. "I love you all, goodnight, take care of yourselves." We all gave him a curious look, smiling still, but confused. Mitch shrugged. "Just… thought I'd say it is all." Mitch determined. "Bye."

"Bye, Mitch." We all chanted. He left the Skype call, and once he did, I gave everyone a concerned look.

"Mitch overdosed on Tylenol. He's fine; it was only 3 more pills than what he should've had, but still…" I informed them. Everyone but Lachlan seemed generally shocked.

"He must _really_ not be doing well…" Preston murmured, Rob nodding along.

"What caused it?" Vikk demanded.

"He was in pain, that's all we know." Lachlan informed them, shrugging.

"Well… keep an eye on him, update us if anything else happens, I might just come down and visit again…" Ryan stated, nodding slight.

"Yeah, we'll all come visit if it happens again." Rob declared. I nodded, smiling slightly.

"I'm sure Mitch'll like that." I assured. "Well, Lachlan and I should go, we need to eat dinner." I informed them, my stomach growling. Everyone laughed and said we were dismissed to leave, as if we had to wait for their approval. Lachlan and I left the call, meeting in the hallway as we went downstairs, the aroma of food quickly filling our noses. By the time we got to the kitchen, Mitch, who was once again dressed in his famous checkered hoodie, and Alanna were both sat down and eating, talking. Mitch was still smiling, which caused me to smile as well. Lachlan and I sat down, taking our plates and eating along with them, joining the conversation here and there, but letting Mitch and Alanna take over mostly.

"Hey." Lachlan finally interrupted. Mitch and Alanna looked to him, now silent, both of them smiling. He chuckled, shaking his head partially. "What's up? Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" Mitch chuckled, shrugging.

"I don't know!" He announced.

"Alright then." Lachlan mumbled, continuing to eat.

~Mitch~

_I'm happy_. We talked all dinner long about whatever was on our minds, mainly Alanna and I leading the entire conversation. _So happy_… Once dinner was over, we all loaded our plates into the dishwasher, then went into the living room, sitting down to watch some TV. _So, so happy_… We ended up watching Castle, oh, I'll miss this. _Everything peachy_. Jerome was next to me, Alanna on his other side. I let my arm rest around his shoulders, one of his arms draped over Alanna's shoulders.

Season 7; Episode 22. 42 minutes long and titled: _Dead from New York_. The newest episode of Castle. The episode was great, they always were, but being close to Jerome like this… that was better. _Meaningful_. By the time we finished watching the hour long show, it was around 10pm. I stood, stretching. I'd already wrote another journal entry for today, so I didn't need to bother with that. I made my way to the front door.

"Mitch?" Jerome called. I looked over my shoulder to him and the others, all of them giving me confused looks. "Where are you going?" As my hand hovered over the shiny, smooth doorknob, I just smiled back.

"I was just going to take a walk, get some fresh air. I was planning on going about a mile or so, be back around… 11:30, maybe?" I declared, glancing at the clock. Jerome glanced to Lachlan, but then nodded, motioning to the door.

"Could, I uh, come with you-?"

"No." I snapped gently. "No, I want to go alone. I need time to… clear my head, my minds been everywhere recently, that's all." I assured him. He bit his bottom lip, looking concerned.

"And if you aren't back…?"

"Give me till 11:45, if I'm not back by then, then something might be wrong, I'll call you though, I have my phone on me." I pulled out my phone, waving it a bit as Jerome slowly exhaled, faintly smiling with a slight nod.

"Ok…" He breathed. I nodded, saying bye as I opened the door and closed it behind me. I sighed heavily, still smiling. _That was harder than I thought_. Beginning to quietly hum the tune of a song, I plugged in my headphones and pushed them gently into my ears, beginning to play the song as I stuck my hands in my pockets, gently caressing the folded up paper in my hands.

"_Well this is goodbye, the end of you and me… We've set this boat ablaze, and pushed it out to sea. And nothing that's on board, will survive… This is goodbye._"

"Bye, Jerome…" I whispered as the sad, country like music softly played in my ears, still smiling as I walked the darkened roads. _Alone_.

~Jerome~

I paced madly back and forth, my stomach turning as I continued to check the clock every other minute, worried sick. Why wouldn't I be? Its 11:35- he was supposed to be back 5 minutes ago!

"Jerome, calm down, I'm sure he's fine." Lachlan assured, but not sounding certain either.

"Jerome, honey, you're stressing too much over this, please." Alanna placed her hands on my shoulders and stopped me. I disconnected myself from her, rushing down the hallway and going into Mitch's room. I saw immediately that his journal was in a different spot than where I left it, picking it up and flipping to the bookmarked page. I gasped. _Dear… Jerome…_

_Dear Jerome,_

_Hey, it's Mitch. So, I woke up, and heard you and Lachlan talking. You were reading my journal… I had the strangest feeling someone was. I'm glad it was you. I know you're reading this. It's probably past the time I said I'd be back, right? Well… I lied. Honestly, I wasn't planning on coming back. I bet you're scared. But, catching you reading my journal was a blessing. Really, it was. It makes this… easier for me._

_Jerome, I love you. I wasn't kidding. I love you. I LOVE YOU. But you love Alanna. It's ok though… I don't mind anymore. I'm happy. I broke it Jerome. I did it. What we've tried doing for at least 5 millennium. I've told you I love you. During the whisper challenge- remember? I did it Jerome! Are you proud of me? I'm not crazy. I love you. Please forgive me. I LOVE YOU!_

_If I'm not back yet, then track my cell phone. I'll explain when you get to me. I promise. Just listen, ok? You just have to listen._

_3 Mitch_

I threw his journal away from me and rushed from the room. _He loves me…?_ Pulling out my phone, I pulled up a track my phone app and typed in the information I needed, grabbing my car keys as a map to his location showed up on my screen.

"Jerome?" Lachlan questioned. Him and Alanna looked very concerned, worried.

"Read his journal and stay here- I need to go!" I yelled at them as I ran out the front door, not bothering to close it as I hopped into my car, slamming the door behind me. The road was black and oddly quiet, not a car in sight as I drove. I was trying not to go too far over the speed limit, but all the same, I wanted to find Mitch. _Why?_ _Why would he run off? Why not tell me? WHY?!_

It took about 15 minutes to pull up to a bridge, driving along it as my stomach turned. When I saw the familiar red and black checkered hoodie sitting on the ground, folded up neatly, I parked my car and hopped out. Not bothering to close the door as a clash of thunder started a downpour of rain. I knelt down besides his hoodie, picking it up as his phone slipped out, being caught by the headphones in my grasp. I slipped his phone into my pocket, unfolding his hoodie as a note fell out of it. I caught it as it slowly floated towards the ground, unfolding it with shaky hands.

_2580_.

I tossed the note away, pulling out his phone. I already knew that was the password, so he wants me on his phone? _Why?_ As I turned his phone on, I slipped in a headphone, the screen lighting up the notes app, already opened to a particular note.

_Dear Jerome,_

_If you're reading this, then understand that I don't regret my actions. If you're reading this, it means you truly care about me. It makes me happy._ _You know all my secrets now. So let me tell you one more._ _For when the clock strikes midnight, I shall run from the palace that's your soul and never return. Find me and end this fairytale._

_End it how you may, for I'll never move, I'll never leave. I'll wait for you. Because you and I are never far from our perfect ending._

_Goodbye. watch?v=yoDuorl78rw&amp;feature= _

_3 Mitch_

Hesitantly, I tapped the link present in the note, his phone opening up the YouTube app and going directly to some song called **_This Is Goodbye_**, by the **_Randy Rogers Band_**. The music started up, the song already beginning to sound sad. _Just listen, ok?_

"_Well this is goodbye, the end of you and me… We've set this boat ablaze, and pushed it out to sea… And nothing that's on board, will survive… This is goodbye…_" I couldn't breathe.

"_Well this is goodbye, not the kind we've had before… We're out of one more tries, there won't be any more… And all the grays have turned to black and white… This is goodbye…_" I felt tears brimming in my eyes. _What does that mean…?_

"_This is hard… This is hell… This is pain like, I have never felt… This is final, love has failed. This is walking away from us, to save ourselves… This is goodbye…_" I let the tears caress my cheeks freely, not wanting to move, frozen. _Mitch…_

"_Well this is goodbye, in my heart there's no doubt… 'Cause I can feel the broken pieces, try and, cut their way out… Some of them I know I'll never find… This is goodbye…_" My breathing was starting to become heavier. _Oh god- Mitch_…

"_This is hard… This is hell… This is pain like, I have never felt… This is final, love has failed. This is walking away from us, to save ourselves… This is goodbye… This is final, love has failed. This is walking away from us, to save ourselves… This is goodbye… This is goodbye…_" That's where the song ended.

That's when the time turned to midnight.

That's where all my hope was thrown down the drain. I dropped his phone, letting the headphone slip from my ear as I dropped his hoodie as well. And walking up to the edge of the bridge, I looked down. And there, lay the still, bloody mess, of my smiling best friend.


	17. Epilogue - Present:

**Epilogue – Present:**

I was dressed in a suit. A black suit that made me look… fancy- formal. It adorned a red tie, my hair messy, and my hands in my pockets. The suit was more comfortable than anything I'd worn in a long time. Everything was black.

I walked straight forward, despite the fact I could not see beyond my visions end. I knew not where I was or why I was here, but soon, I began seeing people. They were all grouped together, two people to a group, 15 groups in total. Then there was a table, all of them were staring at me. I just started for the table, more curious about it than anything else. It had this red tint around it and made me want to touch it. So I did. I placed my hand gently down on the slightly bumpy surface, waiting for a reaction as footsteps echoed behind me. I pulled my hand away as a folded up bundle appeared where I had once touched the table. I gently picked it up, confused as I unfolded it. It was a black shirt with a big, hollowed out blue diamond on it. The white words adorning it said: **Power Moves ****Only**.

And suddenly, it disappeared before my very eyes- from my very grasp as I was… _taken_ somewhere. Images began playing. _Mitch_… The images dated all the way back to kindergarten, where we first met. It _literally_ summed up our entire life together. From when we were kids, all the way up till the car crash. The people around me flinched at it, as did I. The police dug me out after getting Mitch, our short conversation happening as the nurses took me away. I began freaking out about Mitch. They sedated me, causing me to relax as I was taken care of.

Once again, I was reminded that it was _all_. _My_. _Fault._ It showed each and every day I showed up to Mitch's side, Mitch's asleep, basically dead form haunting me. I'd cry, I'd stare, and eventually walk away all together. It'd show the times I wasn't there, when Conner or his family were there. It showed the time all of the pack showed up, to which everyone around me pointed at the screen and mumbled names. _Something about Larry, Robert, Peter, Victor, and Rylan_. Everything was… reviewed? Remembered, maybe, I don't know anymore. All the way up to when Mitch woke up and was just _all_ smiles.

Then, it picked up with Mitch and his family. He wouldn't eat for them. Everyone was worried, but none of them ever said anything. Mitch would cut at night before bed, tracing new scars on his skin as I suddenly felt nauseous. _We didn't check his parent's hotel room for anything sharp_…

When he got back home and we all hugged him, ate, to where I _did_ force him to eat, a rather surprised, somewhat scared look on his face. _Did I really scare him that badly_…_?_ Everything was caught up to date. From Mitch overdosing slightly to our argument at the park. When it came to me holding Mitch till he fell asleep, then leaving him and going through his journal, I watched as about 5 minutes later, Mitch opened his eyes, not turning around, but listening to the pages turn, and Lachlan as he came in. He listened to our conversation, and once we left, he sat up, and smiled. It was creepy. He slipped out of bed, grabbing his camera and beginning to record. It wasn't as enthusiastic as it usually was.

"_Hey, what's going on dudes, its Mitch, or BajanCanadian here, and I have some bad news for everyone. This is a prerecorded video to tell you that I appreciate everything you all have ever done for me. You've made me who I am today, and I can't thank you enough. But, as none of you probably know… I'm dead._" My eyes widened. _He…_

"_Like I said, this is prerecorded, I'm killing myself later today, and you'll be getting this tomorrow. Don't worry; I'm sure by now my friends know. I'm going to record with the entire pack today as much as possible to give you guys an awesome goodbye treat, so this is the very last video that'll ever be posted on my channel. To my friends and family, please do not take down my channel. Leave it up for everyone to go through so everyone can laugh at my failures and fun, it would mean to world to me. And Jerome… In case you haven't figured it out yet, I love you. I always have. I hate the fact you're with Alanna and I wish you would've noticed me sooner, but you didn't. This isn't your fault. It's mine for being weak. If anyone thinks I'm kidding about this, I'm not. I swear. I'd never lie to you guys. Jerome, I can't say how much I love you. I love you so, so, so much… I hope you live a happy life with Alanna, I hope you grow old together and die in each other's arms, because once you're dead…_" Mitch chuckled slightly, tossing his arms in the air just a bit. "Y_ou're coming right back to me. You're coming right back to your soul mate, I swear it to you. I don't really have much more to say, so… Bye guys, enjoy the video._" He turned his camera off after that and sighed, lying down on his bed sideways. But he got back up, still smiling, and left his room, coming downstairs to meet us for lunch.

Everything from there was us recording and having a blast, until of course… after dinner. Before dinner, all Mitch did was add his little intro to the recording session, not breaking it up and setting it to render and upload by tomorrow morning, titling it: **_I'm Dead_**. He left on his walk, putting in his headphones and humming the tune of **_This Is Goodbye_**. He walked straight to the bridge, got there around 11:15, and set everything up. He stopped playing his song, turned off every app but the notes app, and stuffed his phone inside his hoodie, leaving the headphones plugged in. After that, he climbed up onto the railing, staring down as his smile faded. He began chewing on his bottom lip, as if questioning himself now.

Taking a deep breath, He closed his eyes and exhaled, smiling again as he tilted his head.

"Bye, Jerome." He stated to himself. And with that, he jumped off the bridge. My heart dropped, my skin beginning to pale. _Oh god_… Next was when I found his journal entry after pacing back and forth for an hour or so. I rushed from the house and drove all the way to the bridge. I read the slip of paper, then his note as the rain poured down on me. I began crying listening to the song, and when it was done, I let his phone and hoodie fall away from me, peering over the edge of the bridge. I stared, not breathing for the longest time. Then, I screamed, falling to my knees and covering my mouth, breathing heavily as I stared wide eyed at the bridge below me. And what did I do? I calmed down. Stood up. Pulled out my phone with a shaky hand. And called 911. And as the lady on the other end picked up, I slowly climbed on top of the railing. It was like… Seeing my best friend dead… changed me. I _did_ feel like a part of my soul had been ripped away. I _did_ feel like, without him, I was nothing inside. I _needed_ Mitch, and right in that moment, I understood why. _I love you_.

"… Trace my phone. Two people jumped off this bridge." I tossed my phone over my shoulder, and jumped. I let it be that simple. The images faded away, all of us being brought back in front of the table. I gasped, Mitch standing on the other side of it, smiling sweetly as tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Shakily breathing, I quickly ran around the table and hugged him tightly, letting him hold me as I sobbed.

"Why, Mitch?!" I demanded. "Why didn't you just fucking tell me?!" My voice was waterlogged and cracking, my sobbing echoing, seeming louder than it was, and Mitch just quietly hummed, pulling me closer.

"Because I already did." He mumbled, tilting my head up to his. He placed his forehead to mine, smiling calmly, sweetly down at me. I shook my head no partially.

"I don't want to do this anymore… How many times have we gone through this…? Five millennium, is that what you said…? Why…?" Mitch softly sighed.

"We wanted a perfect ending." I just stared up at him, scared and utterly dumbstruck.

"Why would you kill yourself if we wanted a perfect-?"

"Because… Because I conquered death, and told you I loved you without facing a consequence. I broke the pattern we were locked in- I created something… new. I saved us…" Mitch whispered, still smiling lightly. "This is our perfect ending…" I weakly smiled, cupping his cheeks.

"I love you…" I whispered.

"I love you too…" Mitch whispered back, cupping my cheeks as well and planting a passionate kiss on my warm, dead lips.


	18. Author's Note & Dedication:

Hey guys, Curse here! Thank you all _SO_ much for reading **_Forever With You_**, I hope you liked the book as much as I did writing it, it was definitely a fun experience breaking everyone's feelings… What? Never mind… Just to tell you now, there will **_never _**be a sequel, _THIS IS IT!_ Deal with it, they're happy, so you should be happy too.

ANYWAY, I wanted to make a little dedication in this chapter to the book and author that inspired me to write this book. The author is from Wattpad, her (His?) username is **_–sinfultragedies -_**, go check her (HIS?!) work out, the book that inspired me to write **_Forever With You_**, was none other than: **_200 Letters_**.

**_200 Letters_** is a story about letters that Mitch never sent. To who? To Jerome. How many letters? 200. _Duh_. Now, I won't say anything more (Because I tend to accidently spoil things.) besides the fact that it's a _great_ book and you should go and read it, the sequel, or the "better" ending, is called **_Safe_**, and the book after that, which she (HE?) is still working on, is called **_Decay_**. (Personally not a big fan of **_Decay_**, no offense to anyone that _is_ a fan of it. Also, no offense to the author.) Go read her (HIS…?) work, make… DAMN IT, LET'S PRETEND THE AUTHOR'S A GIRL! Make her feel special!

Thank you all for reading, and I'll see you later!

\- Ghost / Phantom / *IRNH*


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